Happily After Opera?
by Availre
Summary: Sequel to "What Really Happened: Christine's Story." It's after the Opera House fire, and Christine has some choices to make... As well as dilemmas to face. Complete.
1. Beginnings

**So, I promised you a sequel, and here it is: The First Chapter. Not much to say here except I hope you enjoy the upcoming story..? Oh, and for those of you who are starting to red this, but haven't read my other story "What Really Happened: Christine's Story" I would suggest you do that first. You may get slightly lost.**

"Thank you, Antoinette, but really, I'll be fine staying at my flat," I assured her, wiping the tears from my eyes. She eyed me for a second.

"And what about your fiancé, Anton? Where will he stay? He lived at the Opera House as well, no?" I nodded. "Then he should stay in your flat, and you can come live with us. It's not proper for an unmarried couple to be living together, and I won't stand for it." I sighed resignedly.

"I don't think Anton will go for that, Antoinette. I'm sure he can afford a place of his own."

"On what? He's barely been at the Opera two months, and that will give him barely enough for one month of rent, plus all of the necessities he'll need, having all of them been destroyed with the fire. No, dear, it would be better for everyone if Anton stayed at your flat." I nodded and agreed to speak with him about it.

I went looking for my fiancé, and found him kicking a pebble aimlessly through the street. "Erik, dear," I murmured touching his shoulder lightly. He turned to face me, a desolate look in his hazel eyes. "Why don't you come and stay in my flat for a while; I'll be staying with Antoinette and Meg."

"No," he said hoarsely. "Not until I find out about my home, Christine. If it's still there, I have some things I _must_ get from it. And also, I wouldn't need to stay at your flat, although I'm flattered, I do have my salary, Christine."

"What? How would you know that you still have it if you don't know if your house survived?" I asked.

"I do use a bank, Christine, I'm not that disconnected from the world." He smiled grimly and continued kicking the pebble. I followed him.

"Erik, I'm sorry," I murmured, and he turned to face me suddenly.

"For what?" he laughed harshly, "It's not like it's anything you could have prevented, Christine."

"I could have helped you take what you needed from your house," I said timidly.

"Oh, no, I couldn't ask that of you, Christine. You're far too delicate to do something like that. How could I ever expect you to do anything?" he said sarcastically. I felt tears sting my eyes, and my lower lip trembled. These were the harshest words Erik had ever said to me. They hurt my soul; stung me to my very core.

"Erik, how could you?" I whispered before fleeing down the street. So much had happened so quickly that my emotions were unstable and I could easily sway from ecstatic to depressed.

"Christine, wait!" Erik called after me, and I was vaguely aware of his words; I had suddenly slipped into some sort of haze and kept walking numbly. I felt his hand on my shoulder, and I turned to face him, and I suppose that I had a glassy look in my eyes, because Erik gasped, a thing he rarely did. I just blinked at him.

"What?" I snapped, suddenly angry. "What do you want from me, Erik? I can't always me little miss under-control-always-knows-what-to-do! How can you seriously expect that of me? Because I'm not perfect, and I certainly don't always know what to do or how to react!" I could feel my face turning bright red, and I crossed my arms in frustration.

"I'm not asking perfection of you, Christine. I was just… snappy. I did just lose my home," he murmured, brushing his knuckles across my cheek affectionately.

"I know," I said, sighing. "But you're not the only one who lost something." I could feel the tears stinging my eyes again, and I fought them back desperately. I took a shaky breath.

"I know, love. I know." Erik pulled me into his chest again, and I took in the comforting, familiar scent that was his. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely and I nodded my head, murmuring my apology as well.

"We should come back in a few days and see if anything survived," I said, looking up at him and resting my chin on his chest.

"It's highly unlikely that anything did, Christine. Are you sure you want to do that?" he asked, stroking my hair.

"You'd come back anyway, even if I didn't. So I might as well," I said. He shrugged.

"Very well, then. In the meantime, I'll find myself an apartment to stay in, and you can stay at your flat." I wrinkled my nose.

"And apartment? Erik, I don't want to live in an apartment. If you're going to buy something, buy a house," I said, twining my hand with his.

"What, so we're to go house hunting now? Christine, we've barely been engaged a month!" he laughed, and I smiled lightly.

"Well, we might as well. You don't think I'm going to wait a whole year, do you?" I saw Erik's ears flush red, and I smiled. "I think I'd like something a little outside town," I said dreamily. "With a quaint garden and vines climbing up the walls of the house. It'd be so… romantic." Erik gave me an amused look.

"Yes, well, I'll see what I can find, Christine."

"You're not taking me with you? Humph!" I turned away from him haughtily, if only to hide the smile on my face.

"I never said that. We can't just go around and look at every house that's for sale, now can we?" he asked teasingly.

"I suppose not," I admitted reluctantly, "But you had better take me with you, mister."

"Very well, then," he said, putting an arm around my waist.

oO0Oo

Days passed, and Erik still hadn't found a suitable home, not that I was surprised. It would take a while to find one that fitted both of ours wants—and needs. I insisted on a three bedroom, but wouldn't tell him why. I certainly didn't want to scare him, the poor man. Just in case, I wanted a room for a nursery. And Erik, of course, wanted a music room. I did, too, so it was certainly a must.

In the meantime, Erik was staying in my flat, and I was with the Giry's. Meg was absolutely a joy to be around, and Raoul stopped by often, never venturing outside the holds of propriety, at which Meg was annoyed.

"We're engaged, for Pete's sake! Would it kill him to show the slightest bit of affection?" Meg had complained, sipping her tea grumpily.

"Perhaps it would," I had said, grinning wickedly, and Meg had given me a swat on my upper arm.

"Well, still, at least I have my ring," she said, sighing drastically. She admired it on her hand again, the big diamond in the center, and black onyx accents. It was certainly more expensive than mine, but my ring was mine, and I loved it.

Meg and I spent many hours like this in the course of those few days, and we were doing such a thing when Erik came calling. Antoinette answered the door, saying, "Anton, please come in. How nice to have you," and Meg and I exchanged knowing glances. I stood up from the divan to greet him, but he had a grave look on his face, and the smile died on my lips.

"Erik, what is it?" I asked.

"Erik? Since when is he Erik? His name is Anton Petit! Isn't it?" Mme. Giry had a perplexed look on her face, and Meg drew her aside, presumably to explain.

"It's my mother," Erik said quietly. "I've just received a letter from my father, saying that she is very ill, and possibly dying. He requests that I come at once."

"Of course, Erik, you must go," I said, placing a hand on his upper arm.

"Come with me," he whispered, "I cannot face this alone."

"Whatever you need," I murmured. "When do we leave?"

"In an hour; I already bought two train tickets to Rouen."

"Just give me a moment to pack," I said, brushing my lips across his cheek.

"There isn't time. The traffic is heavy, and it'll take us about fifty minutes to get to the train station." I sighed in frustration.

"All right. Meg!" I called, and she peeked her head around the corner. "Erik and I are leaving. His mother is very ill, and his father wishes us to be there." She nodded once and made a shooing motion, and Erik and I were out the door.

"Erik, It's freezing out here!" I complained before stepping into the carriage.

"You'll warm up on the way there. And since we've already bought our tickets, we can just step on the train. I would offer you my coat, but I haven't one either." I nodded, and Erik told the cab driver where to go, and the carriage rolled on.

Upon reaching the train station, Erik and I hurried into our booth, and Erik ordered us dinner. "It may not be very well prepared, but it will fill our stomachs," he muttered, and I nodded affirmation. I gasped suddenly, and pulled Erik in for a kiss. Erik was giving me a funny look, but I wasn't really paying attention to him. Out in the aisle, looking for their booth, was Jacques and Lynnette. To my horror, they saw that our both only had two people in it, and stepped in. I backed away from Erik hastily, and made my best attempt to hide my face. But it was too late, Lynnette had recognized me, somehow, some way.

Although, I will say that her baby was adorable. Last time we had seen Jacques an Lynnette, she was with child, and it had been long enough that Lynnette now had an adorable, three month old baby. "Christine? What a coincidence! How nice running into you again," she smiled at me warmly, and I smiled back half-heartedly.

"Lynnette, how are you?" I said, and I noticed that Erik was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'm doing fairly well, considering the circumstances," she said, sighing sadly.

"What circumstances?" I asked, although, I had more than a good idea of why they were on the same train as we were.

"Jacques' aunt is very ill, and I'm so very worried for her," she said shaking her head.

"Oh, yes, she had a seizure, didn't she?" and Lynnette nodded. "Is there very much chance that she'll be all right?"

"It doesn't appear that way, I'm afraid. And it's a shame, too, she's a very sweet woman… What are you doing on the train?" she asked. "I just can't get over what a happy coincidence this is; running into you!"

I smiled, glancing at Erik, and he just barely nodded. "Well, we're to see Erik's mother. His father sent us a letter, saying to come at once, and so here we are." I could see Lynnete glancing curiously at Erik, and I knew that he looked very different than when he had his white mask on.

"Is everything well?"

"I'm afraid not," I said, biting my lip demurely.

"Oh? Whatever is the matter?" Lynnette asked, concern etched on her face.

"She is not well," I said. "She recently had a seizure, and she is not well..," I trailed off, not sure how much detail I should go into. I knew that we would inevitably have to meet them at the Girard's house, but whether to tell them now or later I wasn't sure.

"She could be dying," Erik said suddenly. Jacques looked up sharply at Erik.

"Do you mean to imply that your mother is the same woman as my aunt?" he asked rudely.

"Perhaps," was all Erik said, and I felt fear clutch my heart. If Jacques was going after Erik's parents money, Jacques would not be very handsome anymore.

"Are you that monster of a child who abandoned them when he was young?" Jacques spat. "If you are, I'll have nothing to do with you," he said haughtily.

"Jacques, please," Lynnette whispered.

"You think I left them?" Erik roared, and the baby began to cry. I fervently wished we were able to get off the train, but we still had at least another hour. "I was kidnapped! My mother was shot in front of me, and I was dragged away by travelling performers, watching her bleed. I thought she had died."

"And why didn't you look for her then?" Jacques said cockily.

"I thought they had died, or blamed me for her death," Erik whispered, and I touch his back lightly, and he glanced at me.

"And what of your mask? Where is that? Perhaps you are not really he; an imposter after Charles' money."

"You know nothing," Erik whispered. I shot Jacques a look of venom, and he looked away guiltily. Lynnette gave me an apologetic look, and I smiled faintly at her.

"I know enough to know that you are not he, for your face is as normal as my own," Jacques snorted.

"You ignorant bastard!" Erik growled. "Do not speak of that which you do not know." Now it was my turn to offer Lynnette an apologetic smile, and she shrugged slightly. Apparently she knew just what kind of man she married. "Do not think me so normal just because I appear to be."

"Meaning what?" Jacques asked, leaning dangerously close to Erik.

"I wouldn't do that, Jacques," I warned quietly.

"Bah! You're a woman? What do you know? The things you should concern yourself with are home-making and cooking!" That remark pushed Erik over the edge. Lynnette and I both gasped.

"You, sir, will not speak to her that way!" Erik stood up and pointed a finger at Jacques. "She is more intelligent than you could ever hope to be, and I will _not_ have you speak about my fiancé that way."

"Oh, so the monster has a fiancé, does he? Well, well, well. I have to say she must have been very destitute in order to accept someone as you." I gasped in horror at his remark, and my hand clenched into a fist. Erik didn't say anything, but he threw a roundhouse punch at Jacques, landing squarely on his jaw. Jacques slumped in his seat, unconscious, and Erik stepped back, panting.

"I am sorry, Madame, for my behavior. Sometimes my temper gets the best of me. I promise you shall be reimbursed. Is one hundred francs suitable?"

"Please, monsieur, my husband had that coming for a long while. There is no need to apologize, or reimburse us, I assure you." She smiled at him reassuringly.

oO0Oo

Eventually, the train pulled to a stop, and Jacques had moved Lynnette and himself to an empty booth far away from us; I had a feeling I would not being seeing Lynnette on a social visit anytime soon. Erik and I stepped off the train, hailed a cab, and immediately burst into Charles' and Marianna's home. Charles greeted us with a surprised expression.

"How is she?" were the first words out of Erik's mouth, and Charles frowned heavily.

"Not well, I'm afraid," he said. "She is frail, and her skin is white as parchment, she barely eats, sleeps or drinks. I don't know why she stopped to begin with," I could tell he was concerned.

"I'll go make tea," I murmured, heading to the kitchen.

"No," Charles stopped me. "You should see Marianna first… I-I'm not sure how much time she has left."

**So, this book is going to be a bit darker than the last one. Which isn't saying too terribly much, but it will be darker, especially these first few chapters. Don't forget to review, and I just want to say thank you to everyone who favorited, reviewed, added to you alerts, my previous story. Shucks, I'm just happy I got over 100 reviews on my last story. So, please review, and the next chapter will be up sooner if you do! :D**


	2. Knife In the Shoulder?

**Thank you all for the encouraging reviews. There will be lots of stuff happening in the next few chapters, so stay tuned… **

Erik and I were still for a fraction of a moment, then Erik leapt up the stairs, taking them by threes, and I hurriedly followed after him. I came to the conclusion that Charles must have brought her upstairs since out last visit nearly nine months ago. I caught up with Erik, nearly running into him because he was stopped cold in the doorway. I peered around him to get a glance at Marianna, and I gasped quietly.

She was pale, as if all the blood had been drained from her and you could see the white of her bones. She was astoundingly thin; it looked as if her skin were just hanging from her skeleton. Her eyes were half open, and her breathing was shallow and slow. I didn't think I had ever seen a sicklier person in my life.

Except once, when Daddy was sick. I felt bile rise up in my throat, and I gagged slightly at the thought. I had trained myself for years not to think of him on his death bed, and remember him how he was. But this scene before me brought it all back in waves—his racking, moist cough, his sunken cheeks and grayish pallor. He would sweat profusely and claim to be cold. It nearly killed me to see him like that, and it very nearly broke me seeing Marianna was in the same state.

Erik had moved to his mother's bedside and was stroking her hand tenderly. I remained in the doorway, frozen with shock. I felt Charles come and stand beside me; heard him sigh.

"Is there anything to be done?" I whispered.

"No, the doctors don't know what ails her," he said, voice cracking.

"My father had this same sickness…" I murmured, staring at the floor. "The doctors couldn't help him, either." I could see that Erik was listening to the conversation, though his attentions were on his mother.

"I am sorry," Charles said, his voice cracking.

"Do not be sorry. It was many years ago," I said quietly. After a moment, I went and stood next to Erik, and I saw Marianna's eyelids flutter.

"Eh….ree….k," Marianna was struggling to talk, and Erik tried to silence her, but she ignored him. "Ah…luh…vuh….oo." She took a shaky breath and looked at me, then back to Erik. "Oo… tuh...reet…er…ite." I felt tears well up in my eyes; Marianna was slipping away. I saw Charles come to the other side of the bed and kiss Marianna's forehead.

"Don't push yourself, Mar," he murmured. "I don't want you getting any worse."

"Cha…ls… Ah… luh…vuh…oo." And she exhaled, and didn't inhale again.

Erik let out a choked sob, and I pulled him into a hug, pressing his face into my collarbone. "Oh, Erik," I murmured. "Shhh."

I glanced over and saw Charles close Marianna's unseeing eyes and took a step back, taking a breath that was shaky with emotion. I gave him a sad smile, and Rubbed Erik's back. Erik pulled away from me reluctantly, reaching for a handkerchief he kept in his pocket.

"I'll leave you two and make some coffee. I'll come get you when it's done," I murmured, gathering up my skirts and heading down the stairs. I went into the kitchen and braced my hands against the counter and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself. I stood there for a moment, trying to compose myself a little. I started grounding the coffee, setting out three mugs while it brewed. I flicked tears from my eyes and poured the coffee.

I hadn't known Marianna all that well, but I had liked her immensely, and my grief was magnified at the thought of the pain that Erik must be going through. To find you mother, regain her love, only to lose her again would be painful, and would likely make anyone bitter.

I quickly brushed the thought from my mind and put the mugs on a tray. I attempted to glance outside to see what the weather was like, in the hopes that if it were pleasant out, it would ease the pain, but the curtains were drawn. I drew back a drape to look, only to have my hopes dashed. It was pouring outside, and I sighed resignedly. How fitting. I chided myself. This was not the time for irony or sarcasm. I picked up the tray, and was about to head upstairs with it, when there was a sharp rap at the door.

I quickly hurried to it; whoever was out there would not want to be kept waiting, considering the weather. I opened it, and someone, multiple someone's, burst through the door.

"Charles!" Damn it, it was Jacques.

"Keep your voice down!" I said sharply, and Jacques and Lynnette both turned to me in surprise. "Charles and his son are deep in grief, and your bellowing will not help it… Marianna has passed," I said, my voice cracking. "You have gotten here too late, I'm afraid. But if you will dry yourselves, I'll make you coffee." I sniffled. I could plainly see that Jacques was fuming, but was, at least, being considerate of Charles.

Father and son were downstairs quickly enough, and I handed them each their mug. Charles murmured an incoherent thank you, and Erik just touched my shoulder lightly in appreciation. I could feel him glaring at Jacques, and I hurriedly went into the kitchen and poured two more mugs of coffee, handing one to Jacques and the other to Lynnette. Lynnette smiled appreciatively, while Jacques just grunted. I was about ready to slap that man. Although, I noted with satisfaction that his jaw was sufficiently swollen from the punch Erik landed on him.

"I'm sorry, Charles," Lynnette said quietly. "We would have gotten here sooner if we had known…" she let the sentence trail off. Charles nodded.

"I'm sure you would have," he whispered. "How is little Alphonse?" he asked; clearly he didn't want to talk about his wife's death.

"He is much better, thank you. It turned out to be just a cold." As she said this, she hoisted the babe farther up on her hip.

There was an awkward silence in the room, and then Charles spoke again, "So, I presume you all know each other?" There was an uncomfortable shift in the room and everyone just nodded silently. "So… then Erik, I presume you know that Jacques is your cousin?" Charles didn't sound particularly enthusiastic about the fact.

"Yes," Erik said, clearing his throat, "I had come to that conclusion."

"Good," was all Charles said, "You all must excuse me, I have certain preparations that have to be made." There was a murmur of assent from everyone present, and Charles put on his jacket and headed out the door.

As soon as it clicked, Erik and Jacques were at each other's throats.

"You would have the gall to come here, Jacques, after how you insulted me?"

"Yes, I would, because I'm here to support Charles, and he also promised me his estate once Marianna passed."

"You ignorant liar. My father would never give everything material he owns to someone such as you. He would just as soon give it to the needy!" There was a noise outside, and Lynnette and I both motioned for them to quiet, and a moment later, Charles came back through the door, grabbed his hat, and left again. We all watched anxiously as the door clicked shut again.

"And how would you know? You haven't been around him but once since your adulthood!"

"Perhaps not, but I know him well enough to know that you lie!" Lynnette and I slowly started backing out of the room and into the music room. As soon as I, Lynnette, and the baby were all in, I quickly shut the door, and it muffled the noise considerably.

"Well," she said, sitting down. "That was tense." We both laughed. Despite Erik and Jacques' evident dislike of one another, Lynnette and I got along well.

"Yes," I agreed, "I'm glad to be out of there… So, his name's Alphonse?" Lynnette beamed.

"Yes, and he's quite the little man." She smiled at me and started bouncing him on her knee. "So are you and Erik expecting?" I nearly choked on my coffee.

"Uh, no. No. We're not even married yet, Lynnette." I smiled and her, and we both chuckled.

"I just assumed you were," she said, "Given the air that seems to surround you two." I looked at her curiously, and she explained, "There's just a familiarity there, like you have known each other for so long. There's a deep connection there." I smiled gratefully.

"Yes, Erik and I have known each other for about nine years now," I said, "So we've had quite some time to become familiar with one another."

"if you've known each other for nine years, why did you wait so long to become engaged?" she asked, laying down Alphonse on a sofa for his nap.

"Erik is rather… shy," I said, sitting on the piano stool. "And very afraid of rejection."

"Well, I'm glad he found someone like you," Lynnette said decisively. "You two deserve each other." I glanced at her for any hint of animosity, but found none.

"Yes, well, I wish I could say the same for you and Jacques," I replied honestly. "But he doesn't deserve you."

"Well, I appreciate that, anyway," Lynnette said, giving me a pained smile.

"Is something the matter?" I asked, furrowing my brow.

"No. Yes. No, there isn't." I raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't say anything.

"Jacques and I are having… financial difficulties right now. He can't find work, not since the Opera burnt down. He was a patrolman at night there." I looked up at her.

"He was? Erik and I worked there, too," I said quietly. "But I doubt that Jacques would know Erik."

"There is… something that I don't understand, Christine," she admitted. I motioned her to continue, and she did, saying, "I was under the impression that you were engaged to Monsieur Petit?"

"Oh, that. That is still Erik, but Anton Petit is his stage name. He was looking for something a little more French. He thought that the public would receive him better."

Lynnette nodded. "That makes sense. We French aren't overly fond of strangers." I smiled, and refrained from mentioning that I was Swedish.

Lynnette and I waited out the storm, and eventually Jacques came into the room, upon which I promptly left. I went looking for Erik, and found him unconscious on the floor with a knife sticking out of his shoulder. "Erik!"

**Dun dun dun! I just totally decided to throw that in there at the last second for drama. I mean, it's pretty obvious who stabbed him, but Jacques I decided to make him meaner than originally intended. Hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to review. Oh my god. I just totally lost all of my chapters. I have no clue what happened, but they disappeared from my computer. They're not even in the recycle bin, for pete's sake! AUGH! Wah!**


	3. Doctor

**So, just to let everyone know, I got my chapters back, so yay! And also, I'm not receiving any emails that I'm getting reviews, etc., so if I don't review your story, it's nothing personal, I just probably don't know it's up yet…**

"Erik! Oh, God," I murmured, sending up a silent prayer to heaven. I went to wake him up, but thought better of it, and I steeled myself mentally before yanking the knife out of his shoulder. I nearly threw up at the sight. Erik moaned and jolted up, his hands lashing out blindly.

"Erik! Erik, calm down!" I shouted, though I was anything but. I was briefly aware of Charles running through the front door, and Lynnette following unwillingly behind him. Erik was taking deep breaths through his nose, and I hurriedly went and got some rags out of the linen closet.

"Erik," I said, kneeling down next to him, "You'll have to take your shirt off. Can you do that?" I asked, starting to slip his coat off.

"No, Christine, don't," he said through gritted teeth.

"Erik, don't be ridiculous. It might get infected if you don't."

"Then it gets infected," he said stubbornly. I glared at him and took off his vest, and started unbuttoning.

"We've been through this already, Erik, for Pete's sake! Just because you don't like the scar doesn't mean I don't," I snapped sharply, and Erik was silent. I wrapped the gushing wound quickly, hoping to stanch the bleeding. "Is that tight enough?" Erik nodded. "We'll have to take you to the doctor. I'll write a note for your father, get you a clean shirt, and then we'll be off."

Damn that Jacques. I now fervently hated the man with a fiery passion. TO make verbal assaults was one thing, but to stab a person was a whole other.

I scribbled down the note on a piece of parchment, setting it down on the end table in the entry room, and rushed off to get Erik a shirt. Charles wasn't as tall as his son, so I didn't bother even trying to find a shirt that would fit him. I just grabbed one and took it out to Erik and helped him put it on. I buttoned it as quickly as I was able, grabbed a parasol that was leaning by the door, and ushered Erik out.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked frantically, hailing a cab. We clambered in as quickly as we were able. "The the doctor's, as quickly as you are able," I instructed the driver before returning my attention to Erik.

"I don't think so, but I've a pounding headache," he admitted. "And my shoulder throbs, but other than that, no." I nodded briskly and waited impatiently until the driver pulled in front of an older house.

I helped Erik out of the cab, to which he grumbled, "Good grief, woman, it's my shoulder that's wounded, not my legs." And I had the sudden urge to hit him on the arm, but refrained from doing so.

"Curse this rain!" I muttered, scurrying up to the door and pounding on it. In a few moments, a middle aged man came to the door, peering out curiously.

"Yes?"

"My fiancé has been stabbed; I assume you are the doctor?" I asked, wiping the rain from my face.

"Yes, yes, of course, come in!" The door swung open wide. "Hurry, in out of the rain." He urgently ushered us into a side room, and Erik sat down on the bed that was in there, and the doctor quickly unbuttoned Erik's shirt and unwound the rags. He treated it with alcohol to prevent infection, and looked at me for a moment before saying, "I'll have to stitch it up, but it's not life threatening, considering your prompt action. I would, mademoiselle, advise you to leave. Stitching is not the most pleasant activity. And you have caught me at a moment where I am waiting for my morphine to arrive." I glanced at Erik, and he made a slight motion for me to leave, and I got up without another word, shutting the door behind me. I could hear muffled voices through the door. I strayed into the sitting room, wondering if it was polite of me to go through his home, and sat down.

"Oh, there you are, dear!" a grey-haired woman said. "Thomas said you'd be around her somewhere. I'm just glad you found the room without any trouble." She smiled at me, and I gave her a tired smile.

"I don't mean to be any bother. You didn't have to come looking for me," I said.

"Oh, nonsense! I'm always happy to have company, although, most often it isn't in the best circumstances, as in your case," she admitted, sitting on a sofa a few feet away. "I'm Victoria, by the way, hon," she said brightly.

"Christine Daae," I said, inclining my head.

"The Opera singer?" she asked.

"Yes," I said quietly. "But no more, not since the opera house burnt."

There was a muffled scream from whichever room Erik was in. I winced, and Victoria gave me a comforting smile.

"Don't fret, sweetie. The good doc knows what he's doing… Do you have any idea about how that happened?"

I shook my head in the negative. "No," I admitted. "All I know is that he was in a fight with a man names Jacques." Victoria nodded.

"Well, don't pick a man that's always getting in fights. One has to know when to fight and when to let it go."

"Erik only protects himself," I said defensively, and Victoria gave me a knowing smile.

"Of course he does, sweetie. Of course he does."

No more was said between us for the remained of the time we sat there. She didn't offer me tea, coffee, something to nibble on, nothing. No wonder she didn't have company often. Eventually, the doctor came out, wiping his hand on his pants casually.

"Everything went fine," he announced, nodding in my direction. "There'll be a nasty scar there, but it should heal up fine. He shouldn't use that arm fully for a few weeks, though. That knife nearly nicked his bone. You're lucky it missed; otherwise there would've been complications. Expensive complications, to say the least… He's resting now, and probably ready to go home, so I suggest you take a cab and get him there. I have to say, he's a tough fellow; didn't struggle at all, didn't even scream."

"Then what was the one we heard?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"Oh. I was hoping you didn't hear that. Stubbed my toe something awful against the table in there. Most likely broken." I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Thank you for your time, doctor. We'll have payment for you tomorrow," I assured him, and he nodded.

"I'm sure you will, but in the mean time, I'm going to need something to hold onto just to make sure you come back," he admitted uncomfortably. I nodded understanding.

"Of course, Doctor," I said, standing. I slid the ring off my finger and handed it to him reluctantly. "I'm afraid this is all I have. Please keep it somewhere safe," I implored him.

"Of course, mademoiselle. Anything you ask." I smiled gratefully at him, then went into the room where Erik was sitting.

"Damn, that hurt," he muttered, standing. I smiled at him.

"I can imagine," I said dryly. "Come on, let's get you back to your father, Erik, I'm sure he's worried sick. The poor man's been through so much already today."

Erik nodded acquiescence, and we thanked the doctor one last time before heading out into the pouring rain to our waiting cab. I quickly apologized to the driver for keeping him out in the weather for so long and got in, upon which Erik took my left hand in affection.

"Christine—where is your ring?" he asked, glancing sharply at me. I looked down and sighed.

"I had to give it to the doctor for collateral until we come back with the payment tomorrow," I said unhappily. "It was the only thing on me that I had that was worth anything." Erik sighed.

"I could have given him my cufflinks, or my shoes, even. But your ring? I wouldn't have you get rid of that for anything, Christine." I smiled sadly.

"It was the most logical thing to do," I murmured, looking out the window.

"Logic. I despise it. It goes against my very grain, and here you are, using it against me?" he asked, feigning betrayal.

"Mmh. Well, I happen to be very fond of it. You'll have to get used to it, I'm afraid."

"Yes, there are many things I'll have to get used to," he murmured sadly.

**So, here's this chapter! Hope you liked it, next one should be up soon. And just fair warning: Towards the end of this month, March, the last week specifically, I probably won't be updating at all because I'm going away with my family for the week to see some old friends, and hopefully get a tan! :D**

**And also, I just want to say to all of the phic writers out there: Your stories make me want to write, and your updates inspire me for new ideas for my chapters. So thank you, phic writers… And also reviewers. You top the list, too.**

**Don't forget to hit the little button down below and review. I call it little, because so many people seem to have bad aim and miss it. Tee-hee. I'm not begrudging any of you who don't review, but I may poke fun every now and then.**


	4. Peachy Keen

**trrmo77: I hope everyone is all right! I think I heard about that one too. Prayers your way. :)**

**Phantom Serenity: I know, the sneaky little things. Get me nervous for no reason, apparently. **

**Funnygirl00: I'm glad you liked it! And I won't be gone for another couple weeks; I'll try to have plenty uploaded by then.**

**Shiloh Willows: That would be nonsensical. Hopefully he put it in a safe place like she asked…**

"Oh, Erik, it'll turn out all right," I whispered, taking his hand between mine. We walked in the front door to Charles' house, and were met with a flurry of questions.

"What happened? Where the hell were you two? And what in God's name happened to Jacques and Lynnette?" Erik took a deep breath to explain.

"Christine and I were at the doctor's. Jacques, Lynnette, and Alphonse have left. Jacques and I got into a fight."

"So that's it, then? No details? And I suppose that's why you're in my shirt? You just got into an argument? Don't try to fool me, boy." Erik shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes, sir," he mumbled, and I marveled at Erik's submissiveness. "Jacques and I got into an argument as soon as you shut the door… Christine and Lynnette left the room at some point, along with little Alphonse," he glanced at me surreptitiously before continuing, " Jacques tripped me and I hit my head on the table. Before I could stand up he stabbed me in the shoulder, and I slipped into unconsciousness." Erik shrugged his shoulders with embarrassement.

"And this fight was about…?"

"The estate. Jacques was looking to take it from you." Charles sighed heavily at that comment.

"So much at one time…" he muttered running his hand through his hair.

"I apologize, father, for my rash actions. I should not have acted as I did."

"You're damn right you shouldn't have!" Charles exploded. "Especially considering that I did promise Jacques this estate! Do not speak out of your ignorance!" Apparently Charles' way of dealing with grief was to get angry. Erik winced noticeably, and I grasped his hand in my own. Daddy had never, ever, yelled at me like this, and so I was slightly frightened at this sudden wrath from Charles.

Erik didn't say anything to his father's remark; just kept clenching and unclenching his jaw. I knew, were it not for the fact that Charles was his father Erik would have hit him by now. Never mind the fact that Erik had several stitches in his arm. He wouldn't have cared.

"Charles," I said suddenly. "You should get some sleep; we all should," I interjected, rather bravely, considering the fact that Charles' face was beet red with anger. "We all need time to mull things over and come to terms with what has happened." I glanced at Erik, who was trying to calm himself, and gave his hand a little squeeze.

Charles didn't say anything, and we all stood there for a while, just mulling over our own thoughts. Charles was still mad, and I came to the conclusion that that must be where Erik got his temper from. I was grateful for the fact that he didn't blow up on me often, because I wasn't entirely sure I'd be able to handle that.

The clock struck nine PM, and we all shifted. "I expect that Jacques and Lynnette will come back for their luggage tomorrow," Charles said quietly, and we all nodded. I decided to go into the music room for a while and sit, and upon reaching it, I almost screamed.

"Erik," I said, panic dripping in my voice. "Come here, would you?" Erik was by my side without a moments hesitation, and he was clearly panicking as well.

"What are we going to do with a baby, Erik?" I whispered. "I don't know how to take care of a baby!"

"Isn't it supposed to be instinctual for women?" he asked, glancing at me nervously.

"Is it for men?" I snapped, scooping Alphonse up.

"…No. Do we know that they'll even come back for him?" Erik asked skeptically. "Because I'm not overly fond of children." My heart sunk at those words. As nervous as I was now, it still pained me to hear that Erik didn't like kids. There went that dream. I sighed, rocking the babe quietly.

"Lynnette will. She'd never go anywhere without her baby. I have a feeling Jacques forced her to leave without the child. You poor thing," I murmured, looking at Alphonse. I exited the music room, coming into the sitting room to find Charles smoking a cigar.

"You wouldn't happen to have a bassinet, would you Charles?" I asked quietly. He looked up at me.

"Why would you…? Oh, my… They left him here?" He shook his head in disapproval. I fought back the urge to wrinkle my nose at the acrid smell of the expensive cigar. "Yes, I think I have one up in the attic," he said quietly. He stood up, and I could hear his knees crack harshly, and headed upstairs.

"What if Lynnette doesn't come back?" Erik murmured from behind me. "I can't take care of a child, Christine. I'm not fit to be a parent."

"If worst comes to worst, Erik, I'm sure Jacques or Lynnette have siblings who would take him," I said grudgingly. "And if they don't, then…" I looked up at him, and he nodded moodily.

"I understand. I wouldn't trust the orphanages, either."

Charles came down a moment later with a bassinet for Alphonse and some sort of book. He scooted the bassinet my way, saying that he had already done his fair share of parenting, and turned towards Erik, thumping the book lightly with his hand. Dust flew off of it wildly, and I sneezed.

"Gusundheit," Charles said distractedly."Before I became a carpenter, I studied law, but then I was unable to afford the schooling, so I had to drop out. This is one of the books that I retained. It's on family affairs, and if I remember correctly, though I'm not happy about it, Jacques was well within his right to physically harm you." Erik looked incredulous.

"What? Stabbing a man is just peachy keen with the government? …That explains some things, I suppose." Erik sighed. "Is he within rights to put me in prison?"

"No," Charles said firmly. "He is not. My guess is that Jacques was not familiar with the law, and so he fled, fearing punishment. I do not know if he will ever come back." Charles looked at both Erik and I. "And, if he does not, since Lynnette doesn't have any family, you two will be left with Alphonse." I sank down onto the sofa wearily, closing my eyes. If it wasn't bad enough already that Erik didn't like children, he might be forced to raise someone else's!

"Christine thinks that Lynnette will come back for her babe," Erik said his voice weak.

"Perhaps. I would not expect to see Jacques again, unless, of course he goes to see a lawyer—which is entirely possible. In the meantime, I suggest we all get some sleep," Charles said, snuffing out his cigar. I nodded.

"I'll sleep out here with the baby," I murmured, laying Alphonse down in the bassinet. I sighed and blinked, trying to get the sleep from my eyes. It had been a long day, and I wasn't sure how much I was looking forward to the next. I heard Erik lock the door, and Charles head up the stairs before Erik came and sat beside me.

I felt the sofa depress with his weight, and I leaned against him. "Erik, what are we to do if Lynnette doesn't come back?" I asked, wrapping my arms around his trim waist.

"You don't think she will?"

"I certainly hope she does," I admitted. "While I love children, I don't want any quite yet." In my sleep addled brain, I had let it slip what I had sworn myself would not.

"You want children?" Erik asked, looking at me.

"Mmh." And then I was asleep in the time it would take for a candle to be blown out.

**Okay, first before I forget, because I've forgotten everysingle time I've updated since Marianna died. I'm assuming that everyone understood what she said on her deathbed, since I didn't get any comments about that, but I thought I'd clarify: "Erik, I love you. You take care of her." Then, to Charles, "Charles, I love you."**

**Now that that's out of the way, to my last phrase "And then… out," I tried to make it realistic, considering that electricity wasn't quite invented, so…. Yeah. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I thoroughly sorry if Erik and Charles and grief-stricken enough I have two reasons for that: 1) There's been a lot gone on since she died. 2) Personally, I've never experienced the death of someone close to me, so I don't really have any idea how to portray that. Although, there was a rumor going around that I had died, but that's another story, because clearly I'm not… Anyway, please remember to review! Assuming you have time, and it's convenient enough. I know sometimes I only have time to read the update, and I mean to go back and review, but then never do. Sorry, about that, because, chances are with all the stories I've read, it's probably been done to you….Review!**


	5. Night Shift

**Lauren: I apologize for the misunderstanding; Jacques was dragging Lynnette out of the house, not Charles. For some reason, my brain wants me to type in Charles instead of Jacques. I hope this clears things up for you a little.**

**Bookgirl: Thank you!**

When I woke, it was dark out, and it was loud. I sat up with a start, frantically pulling back the covers to find Alphonse. I didn't remember how I had gotten to bed, but I assumed Erik must have put me there.

I was halfway down the stairs when the crying stopped. I froze, listening. Was I hearing things? No, the baby was definitely crying, but not anymore. I crept down the remainder of the staircase and peered into the sitting room. Erik was cradling Alphonse, singing softly to him. I smiled gently and walked into the room, wrapping my arms around myself in an effort against the cold. "Have you been up all night?" I asked, sitting next to him and looking at the infant in his arms.

"Off and on, Christine," he said quietly. "I don't sleep that much anyway," he reminded me, and I nodded quietly. "But this is the first time he's cried. I just hope I didn't wake my father up."

"I doubt it. Older people tend to sleep more deeply," I mused, extending my hand and letting Alphonse's chubby fingers wrap around one of my own. There was a comfortable silence between us for a while, and the clock struck one.

"Do you really want to have kids, Christine?" Erik asked, shifting towards me slightly.

"Do we have to talk about this now?" I moaned, letting my forehead rest against his shoulder.

"It's probably better if we do," he murmured.

"Fine," I said grumpily. "…Yes."

"Why?" he asked, setting Alphonse, who had drifted back to sleep, in the bassinet.

"Why not?" I asked. "Why don't you like children?"

"It's not that I don't like children, Christine," Erik said, "They always want to pull of my mask; I don't want to scare them." I looked at him, slowly coming out of my half-asleep state into a more alert frame of mind.

"Erik, children that young don't know when something's ugly or pretty. It just _is_." I said.

"Perhaps. But about when they get older, and wonder why I'm so ugly, what then?"

"Then will be the time to explain that it is the soul you must see in a person, not the physical aspect. Because what's on the outside, isn't always on the inside."

"Expect with you," Erik said.

"You flatter me." I smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Mmh. And I don't want kids because…" he stopped suddenly.

"Because…?" I pressed looking at him sweetly.

"Because they might end up like me."

"End up like you? What, incredibly smart, talented and handsome? You selfish man!" I whispered, trying not to wake the baby.

"You know what I mean, Christine. And you know just as well as I that I'm not handsome. I'm more like a half-rotted corpse," he snorted, and I kissed him again.

"Erik, you're the most handsome man I've ever seen," I murmured, kissing him again. He kissed me back halfheartedly.

"I love you," I breathed. That got his attention, and his arms were around my waist in a heartbeat. I lightly pressed my palms against his face, slowly peeling off the thin rubber mask.

"Christine," Erik complained. "You shouldn't."

"But I want to," I said, "I want to see your face."

"Why? Why do you want to see my face? You're the most confusing person I've met." I grinned, my knuckles lightly brushing his red deformity.

"Because I love you just the way you are."

Erik and I spent the rest of the night in each other's arms, watching Alphonse sleep.

"You really are afraid that they're going to have your deformity?" I asked quietly, my eyes not wavering from Alphonse.

"Yes," was his clipped answer.

"They won't," I assured him.

"How do you know?" he choked. "I can't, Christine. I won't condemn another human being to what I've had to go through."

"But Erik, they won't have to go through what you did. They'll have parents who will love them unconditionally," I said, looking into his hazel eyes.

"Not from the rest of the world," he said bitterly. "School kids will tease them."

"We'll tutor them at home," I said quickly.

"And what about church services? Would you give up that to save your children ridicule?" Erik's tone was growing ever more bitter.

"Erik," I said slowly, "I would do anything to ensure the safety and happiness for my children. I know that. Even though I mayn't have any just yet, I would die for them if need be." Erik sighed.

"I cannot risk it, Christine. I won't have the child asking 'What did I ever do to deserve such a grotesque face? Does God hate me?'" Erik pressed his lips together. "No, Christine, I will not do it."

I frantically poured a dash of milk on the eggs I was frying to keep them from drying out. Was I sure it would work? No, I wasn't. But I certainly hoped it did, because otherwise I would have wasted eight eggs. I piled them onto a serving plate with a sigh. Erik had made up his mind about kids, and I wasn't going to leave him just because I wanted them and he didn't. Perhaps we could adopt. I shrugged mentally. It just wouldn't be the same.

I heard a knock at the door. "I'll get it!" I called, scooping up Alphonse on my way to the front door. I plastered a smile on my face and opened the door.

"Christine! I'm so sorry about what Jacques did," Lynnette said nervously. "Are you here alone?" she asked.

"No," I admitted, handing her Alphonse, whom she looking like she wanted to squeeze tightly and never let go. "Erik and Charles are both here. You can come in if you'd like."

"Oh, no, I'd better not. Jacques is… Jacques is waiting for me, I'm afraid."

I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. "Lynnette, Jacques was well within his rights to do what he did," I said in a low voice. As much as I hated Jacques, Lynnette didn't deserve to be on the run, not with a small child to tote around.

"Really?" she seemed apprehensive. I nodded. Tension seemed to roll off her shoulders. "Oh, that's wonderful! Well, I mean it's not wonderful, but…"

"I know," I said. "You should probably go now, Lynnette," I reminded her quietly. She smiled sadly and left without another word. I headed back in and saw Charles and Erik looking at me expectantly.

"That was Lynnette," I said, grabbing the serving plate and setting it on the table. "She came to pick up Alphonse."

"And?" I glanced up at Charles.

"And nothing," I said sharply. "That was all. Erik, after breakfast we really should go and pay the doctor back so I can have my ring." He nodded.

"Of course, my dear."

**Ok, so maybe it's a little early for baby talk, but I just wanted to get that out of the way… Please don't forget to review, and I would appreciate it if you would check out my other story "Don Juan Triumphant." **

**Hit the button-\/ That one, there. Or in that general area, hopefully…**


	6. Vicomtess de Chagny

**Lauren: Of course I read your review! :D I've read each and every one of your reviews, and I really appreciate them; they make my day a little bit brighter.  
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"Augh, Christine, I'm so nervous!" Meg trilled, grasping my hand. I smiled at her reassuringly and gave her hand a little squeeze. She took a deep breath, and I handed her the flowers.

"You'll be just fine, Meg," I assured her, and she looked at me doubtfully.

"You really think so?" she asked, smoothing her dress down again. There was the slightest hint of a stomach showing through on her, and I beamed.

"I do," I said. "And I'm sure Raoul will think the same. You know that he's been supportive for the last two months. You two really do make a grand couple." Meg smiled.

It really had been two months, hadn't it? Two months since Erik and I had lefts after Marianna's funeral, only briefly having seen Jacques and Lynnette there. Erik thought that there might be a lawsuit, but I doubted it. Charles was more than ready to give us his house once we were wed, but I wasn't sure when that would be. Erik and I hadn't even broached the topic of a date yet.

Erik had been busy lately, salvaging what he could from his underground home. Most of it was unharmed, but the pipe organ had been crushed, much to Erik's horror and my disappointment. By all accounts, that thing had been Erik's baby. He loved for it, cared for it, shoot, I even saw him hug it once when he didn't know I was there. It was a big loss for both of us.

Needless to say, my grand dressing room was utterly destroyed. I had searched frantically for just a scrap of anything that even remotely looked like a scrap of Daddy's picture, to no avail. I was lost in misery for a few days, pulled out of it only by Erik's tenderness and understanding and Meg's announcement of her wedding day. I hate to admit it, but it was mostly Meg. I adored weddings; everyone is always filled with jubilee.

Here I was now, adjusting Meg's veil with a giddy expression on my face. She had asked Erik to give her away, jokingly saying that she couldn't trust her mother to because Meg wasn't sure if Antoinette could actually give her up. I thought that the gesture was sweet, but Erik had been slightly annoyed. He never showed any sign of it in front of Meg, Raoul, or Antoinette, though; he was much too proud.

"Christine," he had said, "I barely know the girl! Yes, she's sweet, but I'm nowhere near old enough to be her father!"

I smiled faintly at the memory. I had to explain to Erik that it was more likely that she thought of Erik as a brother, not a father. He had looked at me for a moment, considering this. "Well, I suppose that makes more sense," was all he had said.

"Christine, I'm so nervous!" Meg said again, and this time her mother cut in.

"Meg, you'll do just fine," she shooed me off, because my cue was coming up, and I scurried out of the room with an excited giggle. As soon as I came into view of the aisle, though, I composed myself to a pleasant expression. I held my couple of lilies regally and took my place just off to the side of the altar. Of course Philippe was Raoul's best man and I gave each of them my best smile.

Raoul looked incredibly nervous, and I had a feeling that Philippe had been reassuring Raoul, just as I had been to Meg. Gradually, the music started, and everyone's attention immediately shifted to the other end of the aisle.

Soon enough Meg came into focus, and there were murmurs of approval from some of the older ladies in attendance. Good, I thought, Meg won't be getting any grief from them. Strangely, Erik looked more nervous than Meg did. Although whatever it was the Antoinette had said to her must have reaffirmed her quite well, because she looked just as any bride should: Beautifully happy.

I saw Raoul take in Meg's dress, which was made of fine silk and lace and accented her green eyes wonderfully with the blush pink sash that came across the narrowest part of her waist. I beamed at her, and she gave me an exuberant show of her pearly white teeth. I caught Erik's eye and we shared a small, loving glance before the proceedings began.

Although the whole ceremony was marvelous, it was the vows that were realy the highlight, not the kiss, or the reception—the vows.

"I, Raoul de Chagny, vow to love you, Megan Giry, for the remainder of my days here on this Earth. I vow to love you like the moon and the stars; always there, even when you can't see them. I vow to protect and cherish you always, like the gem that you are." The happy glow in Raoul's eyes was evident. "I promise to support you, and give you all that you deserve—because you deserve everything. I promise to love our family," he said with a sly glance at her tummy, "No matter how large or small it is. I promise to do all of these things until the day I die." Meg smiled up at him tenderly then, tears shining in her eyes.

"I, Megan Giry, vow to respect you like the man I know you are. I promise to be a good wife and mother; wherever that road takes us. I vow to follow you and your lead—through thick and thin, abundant and hard times. I promise to be loyal, to be by your side like a little puppy," Meg giggled at her own vow, and Raoul smiled heartily. "And I promise, from the bottom of my heart, that I will never wound you."

The minister had them slip their rings on the other's finger. Raoul and Meg had decided on simple bands for each of them, why, I wasn't entirely sure; Meg wouldn't tell me.

"You may kiss the bride."

And kiss her Raoul did. It wasn't the sort of kiss that was proper in public, even at a wedding, but Raoul didn't appear to care. After a moment's hesitation, Meg kissed him back, pulling back to smile and giggle at him, and everyone applauded enthusiastically. Meg had said that she and Raoul had gotten close over these past few months, but I hadn't realized exactly how close. The new couple walked back down the hall and into the grand reception room. Philippe and I followed them, and then Erik and Antoinette and so forth.

I had never been in Raoul's home before, and it was certainly magnificent to behold, especially when done up for a party such as this. The ceiling was high, giving the room an airy feeling. The wood trim was a dark color, accenting the neutral crème color of the walls. The artwork was exquisite, and I thought, though I wasn't sure, that perhaps I had seen a Da Vinci hanging on one of the walls. I began to comprehend the enormity of Raoul's wealth. I could have had all this, I thought wistfully.

Instantly after having that thought, I reprimanded myself for thinking that way. Yes, the mansion was grand, but it wasn't really the kind of lifestyle I wished for. I wanted a quiet cottage tucked away somewhere, where it was sunny, and the people were friendly. And maybe some children, I added ruefully. Yes, I decided. Children, playing with the dog in the front yard would be nice.

I felt a light touch on my shoulder and smiled up at Erik. "Yes, dear?" I murmured, looking up at him questioningly.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, and I looked at him with confusion. I glanced over at the dance floor, realizing with a start that the bride and groom had already danced. I guessed I had been daydreaming longer than I thought I had.

"I'd like that." I smiled graciously at him, and he took my hand and led me onto the dance floor.

"I thought you didn't like dancing," I murmured as he spun me around the floor in an entrancing waltz.

"I don't, but I do it because you do. And it wouldn't be proper for me not to dance with you at least once, Christine," he said, giving me a fond smile.

"Oh, Philippe's about to give his toast," I whispered, and Erik and I both turned to face the best man.

"I'm going to be honest with you," Philippe said.

"Speak up!" crowed a voice from the crowd. After blushing profusely, the Comte cleared his throat and began again.

"I'm going to be honest with you," he said, this time louder. "When I first met Meg, I wasn't quite sure what to think." Here he smiled apologetically at Meg. "But after these past couple of months I've grown to love her as my own sister." I glanced at Meg then, but Raoul was whispering something in her ear that was making her blush.

"I also thought that I'd never see the day when my little brother would finally settle down, what after all his gallivanting around with the navy and whatnot. And I have to admit, I'm rather pleased that he's found someone before he's off to Antarctica—to the newlyweds."

I gasped then, I had forgotten that Raoul was due to leave for the South Pole in about two weeks. Raoul and Meg wouldn't have much time together as a couple. I pouted at that. They deserved all the time they could get. I just hoped, briefly, violently, that Bethany wouldn't show her face while Raoul was gone.

The reception went long into the night, and Meg and Raoul retired about an hour before everyone trickled out of the estate. Erik and I left before almost everyone, aside from Meg and Raoul.

"Erik," I said on the carriage ride back to my flat, "Where do you want to get married?" I could feel him shifting, and I wrapped my arms around his waist gently.

"Oh, I don't care, love," he said quietly.

"Well," I said, snuggling into his chest, "As much as I love church, I don't want to get married in one."

"Really?" Erik asked somewhat skeptically.

"Really," I said decisively.

"Well, then," Erik said, "Since you don't want to get married in church, I suppose we'll have to talk about those sorts of things."

"You don't sound particularly thrilled," I noted with amusement.

"I don't mind," he assured me.

"I'm sure," I said sarcastically, "Just like every other groom to be doesn't mind, but then they just stop helping halfway through. That's what happened with Raoul, you know."

"Do you really think me that much like other men, Christine?"

"No," I said shamefacedly. "You're not like other men at all, Erik."

Silence prevailed for the rest of the ride home that night, but upon reaching my flat, Erik said, "Christine, my father is moving out of his home."

"Really?" I asked, looking up at Erik, fumbling with the key to my door.

"Yes, and Jacques and Lynnette are moving in."

"I see," I said, clenching my teeth together.

"It's not that bad, Christine. I wasn't overly fond of the house's layout, anyway. We'll find another home."

"I suppose you're right," I said unhappily. "It'd be hard, too, living in a house where someone died," I murmured, looking at the ground before opening the door to my flat. "Please, come in, Erik." We both filed into my small flat and I put on the kettle for some tea.

"Have you any idea where you want to live, Christine?" Erik asked, sitting at my kitchen table.

"Haven't we been over this already?" I asked, getting out two cups.

"Perhaps."

"Hmph," I said, turning and leaning against the counter top. "Have you?"

"I've already given you my answers."

"And I've already given you mine," I said, arching an eyebrow.

"I know you all too well, Christine. You've changed your mind about what you want."

"And what if I have?" I asked, glancing at him while taking the kettle off the stove top. "It doesn't mean that I _don't_ want what I said I wanted before, it just means that I want what I want now _more_ than what I wanted before."

"…What?" Erik asked, and I laughed.

"I can want more than one thing, can't I?" I said, handing him his tea.

"…Christine, would you happen to have a larger cup? I can't get my fingers through… Too many broken knuckles." I smiled at him.

"I can't fit my fingers in either," I said, getting a mug. "I don't know why I even bring them out."

I carefully transferred Erik and I's beverages into larger cups and set them down on the table again.

"What about Italy?" Erik asked slowly. I glanced at him curiously.

"What about it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What what you think about moving there?"

**I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but I've been busy, with real life and my other phan fic "Don Juan Triumphant." Don't forget to review, and thank you to anyone who adds or reviews ahead of time! :D**


	7. Concerning Moving

**Ollo! Thank you everyone for you reviews! And also, kudos to those of you who got my reference to "Open Range." I love Kevin Kostner in that movie, haha. And I'll be uploading three chapters at one time because I'll be gone the last week of March. So I would advise you not to read all of them at once, for fear of being bored and waiting without any fruit. Pace yourself, dear reader.**

"Italy?" I nearly choked on my mouthful of tea. "Move to Italy, Erik?" I was incredulous. "What about our life here? What about the Opera house, and Meg, and Raoul? And your father, certainly?"

"I'm not concerned about them, Christine," Erik said crisply. "I'm concerned about us and what will make us happy. I've given it quite a lot of thought, and I think it would be wise for us to move there."

"Please elaborate, Erik," I said, attempting to drag his reasons out of him.

"There is quite a bit of countryside there, Christine. The weather is pleasant, and the food is marvelous. I think you'd like it there."

"How do you know so much about Italy?" I asked, more than a little skeptical.

"I know about it because of my travels with the gypsies, Christine. I escaped for a brief span of time only to be caught again," I could see Erik shudder, and I touched his hand lightly. He gave me a grateful smile.

"Why go back to such a place, then?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"I suggest going because I have… connections."

"What sort of connections?" I asked suspiciously.

"He's an old friend who could provide work for me."

"Is it Nadir?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, it's not Nadir… although, if we do move to Italy, I have a feeling that he may decide to tag along." I groaned at that, and Erik chuckled. "I am the only friend he has, Christine," Erik reminded me.

"Then who is this 'connection?'" I asked, becoming slightly irritated. It was late, and this was a heavy conversation.

"His name is Giovanni," Erik said, taking a sip from his mug.

"Exactly how long did you escape for?" I asked. Apparently it was long enough to have made a few acquaintances.

"I'd estimate that it was almost a month before they found me holed up in Giovanni's house."

"Why didn't you mention this before?" I asked, a touch of annoyance in my voice.

"It seemed irrelevant. I don't really like to talk about my past all that much, Christine," he said quietly.

"I know," I said, exhaling. "If you want, you can stay with me tonight," I offered

"To what end?" Erik asked, looking up at me.

"I don't know. We could stay up and talk, or maybe you could compose… I don't want you to leave," I pouted, sticking my lower lip out like a child. Erik flicked it with his finger.

"If you leave that lip out long enough, Christine, a bird will come and land on it." I giggled.

"Is that so?" I asked, grinning at him playfully.

"It is," he replied, and I took his mug and set it in the sink, along with my own. I turned around to face him, but he was already there, and his arms were around my waist. "Just think about it for me, would you?"

"Mmh," was all I said, burying my face in his chest and breathing in the musk that always surrounded him. "Yes," I said, acting out of impulse—something I hadn't don't in quite some time. "Yes, let's move to Italy. But we have to get married first."

"What, are you bargaining with me now?" Erik asked, playful for the first time in a long time. I could tell I had made him happy.

"Maybe I am," I said, giving him a sly smile.

"Are you sure about this, Christine?" Erik asked, suddenly somber.

"Erik, please," I said, "Don't over think everything, dear."

"I don't over think _anything_," Erik protested, and I shot him a look, and he groaned in playful resignation.

After another hour or so, Erik and I bid goodnight, and as I crawled into bed, the enormity of my decision finally sank in. I'm moving to Italy, I thought. What had I gotten myself into?

**So, I know this is kinda short, but you know. They're moving to Italy! And getting married! :D So, the next few chapters will be eventful. Ta-ta, everyone. Don't forget to review!**


	8. There's a Traitor in our Midst

**OK, everyone. I've got chapters 8-12 up for the week that I'm gone. That's waaaaayyy more than I would normally update. Anyway, I suggest you pace yourself in reading this, because there's going to be a lot to digest. Starting with this chapter. Since there's five chapters up now, that's almost one per day for the week that I'm gone. Don't read them all at once, unless you want to have a biiiiiig cliffhanger and still have almost a week until the next update, but if you want that, go ahead. :)**

"Mmm," I said stretching and rolling out of bed. I shook the cloud of sleep from my head and looked out the window. I was in a pleasant mood; the sun was streaming in through my window, birds were chirping, and the air was crisp. I inhaled deeply, soaking in the morning sun through my window. I briefly wondered how Meg and Raoul were, but then my thoughts turned to Erik, and our previous night's conversation. I was moving to Italy? I was moving to Italy!

I was excited and frightened all at once. To leave everything I knew, every_one_ I knew, was frightening. And yet, the idea savored highly of adventure. Casting my fear aside, I settled on excited. How would Erik and I travel? By sea? By land? I wasn't entirely sure, but then again, it didn't really matter to me. We were going, and before that, we were to get married. I smiled at the thought. Being married to Erik could only be bliss, couldn't it?

I slipped into a pale pink dress and pinned my hair into a loose chignon, letting a few curls frame my face and hang at the nape of my neck. I smiled at my reflection for a fleeting moment, and then someone knocked at the door. "Who could that be at this hour?" I murmured thoughtfully, opening in the door to find a distraught Erik. "Come in," I ushered. "What's the matter?"

"It's Philippe. Somehow, he found out who I really am," Erik said, racing up the stares of my flat. I hurriedly followed him. "I must leave, Christine. I must leave and never come back. I'm wanted for the murder of Joseph Buquet, and apparently already sentenced to hang." I gasped.

"Oh, Erik, what are we to do?" I asked.

"I'll be going to Italy. I don't expect you to come—" Erik started, but I cut him off.

"Of course I'm coming! I'm your fiancé, for heaven's sake! Just give me one moment to pack a dress or two, and we can be off." Erik nodded and followed me into me room. I quickly tossed my luggage bag onto the bed, as well as two of my favorite dresses—both casual.

"Christine, you must bring the dress I bought you," Erik protested, and I nodded and tucked it in as neatly and quickly as I was able.

"Will we have time to say goodbye to anyone?" I asked, picking up my bag and heading down the stairs.

"No, I'm afraid not," Erik said, following close on my heels. "I did have time to write a letter to each person, though." I nodded at that. "However I didn't tell anyone where we are going, except Nadir; he wanted to come, just as I suspected." I nodded, in too much of a rush to care if he was coming or not.

"Erik, we have to stop at a chapel," I insisted.

"Christine, there isn't time to make a visit to church!"

"I know that!" I snapped, "But I'm staying with what I told you last night: I'm not leaving for Italy until I marry you." I could tell Erik was frustrated by this.

"Fine," he said. "It's not going to be anything fancy, and you'll be lucky if it's anything over five minutes," he snapped, but I brushed it off as stress. He grabbed my elbow and led me to a bay horse that, somehow, had been tethered to a post near my flat.

"Is that Cesar?" I asked, glancing at Erik.

"Yes," Erik said, springing up into the saddle with such lithe grace that I would have stood in awe for a moment if Erik hadn't grabbed my hand and pulled me up in front of him. "We'll be stopping by Nadir's and then head to the chapel," he said grumpily. I nodded silently.

Nadir was waiting for us by the time we made it to his apartment. "Off to Italy, then?" he said in an undertone, and Erik nodded.

"To the chapel first. Christine refuses to leave without marrying me."

"That's rather inconvenient, mademoiselle," Nadir said smugly. I snorted in a very unladylike manner and rolled my eyes.

"Well, those are my conditions if Erik wants me to tag along," I said, lightly gripping Cesar's mane. "We could also stop and get another horse for me, you know, Erik. It'd be faster travelling and Cesar would stay fresh longer."

"I'll see about getting one from the chapel," Erik said with a purposeful glance at Nadir. Apparently he didn't want Nadir present when we said our vows. Not that I was particularly keen on the thought, either.

Arriving at the chapel, Erik slid off and helped me down. "Have we any story behind our sudden rush?" he asked, leading me into the church. I thought quickly.

"I've a mortal disease, and you want to marry me before I pass," I said in a hushed tone.

"What? No! I'll not have you—"

"Do you have a better idea?" I asked sharply.

"No," he said quietly, "But that doesn't mean that I have to like it."

"I don't like it either, but it's believable."

"We'll see," Erik said, "You don't exactly look like you're on death's door." I gave him an exasperated look.

"Really, Erik?" I whispered harshly, "Just watch." A minister was approaching us now, and I took a deep shaky breath, and Erik glanced at me and did a double take. I suppressed a smirk. When I was a child, sometimes I would feign illness just to spend time with Daddy. My eyes would gain a faraway look, I would make my hands tremble slightly—not enough to have anyone be suspicious, but enough to be noticed.

"Can I help you?" the priest asked quietly. He was a tubby man and with a short neck and fingers, with which he constantly fidgeted.

"Yes," Erik said, "We need you to perform a marriage,"

"When will this be?" he asked, twiddling his thumbs.

"We need it done this very instant," Erik pushed. "My fiancé is very ill, you see," Erik said, glancing at me.

"Of course I can do it now, monsieur, your need must be very urgent indeed. If you would just follow me to the altar…?" Erik nodded and led me silently to the quaint area. The traditional vows were said between Erik and I, and when the priest said "you may kiss the bride," Erik gently planted a tender kiss on my lips, paid the priest and we were off.

As soon as we were outside the chapel, Erik said, "You were quite something in there, Christine. How did you manage to look so sick so fast?"

"I used to do it all the time when I was young," I admitted shamelessly. "When my father would get to busy for my liking, I'd fall ill." I hopped up into the saddle of the horse that Nadir had gotten for me, and we cantered briskly out of the city.

"When we get to where we're going, Christine, I promise you that you'll have a more grand wedding," Erik said, coming up beside me. "And we should also get rings while we travel… It'll take us about 3 weeks to get to… where we're going, I should think."

"Very well," I said optimistically.

"And we'll have to travel by boat for some of it, I'm afraid," Erik said, giving me a curious glance.

"All right," I said, though less confidently than before.

**It looks like someone has been a tattle-tale. Who could it be? Muahahahaha! And I know that probably wasn't the wedding you had envisioned for E/C, but Erik did promise that he would give her another. And I hope you're not terribly mad at me for making them have to run away. **

**Please review. :)**


	9. Journey

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed to the last two chapters, I'm saying this here because I probably haven't been able to check my email while away. So thank you.**

"Erik, can't we stop for just a moment? We've been riding for seven hours," I complained, looking up at the stars.

"Yes, it would be beneficial for the horses as well. If I'm not mistaken, there should be an old abandoned church not far up ahead. We can stop there for the night." I nodded acquiescence.

"All right… Do we have any food?" I asked.

"We do," Nadir said. "I was told to bring the food, since originally Cesar was meant to carry you as well."

"You planned on me coming, didn't you?" I said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yes," he admitted, "Although I wouldn't have blamed you if you wanted to stay… There's the church now," Erik said, gesturing to a building that was just coming into sight.

"Are you sure that it's abandoned?" I asked, "Because it doesn't look like it."

"Well," Erik admitted, "It's not completely abandoned. There's an old nun that resides there. I doubt that she'll mind if we spend the night."

I shifted uncomfortably in my saddle. "Erik, are you sure? I don't like this."

"It's either in there or out here," Erik said, giving me an ultimatum. Thunder rolled in the distance and that made my decision for me.

"In there," I said, albeit with a healthy amount of embarrassment.

We managed to make it to the church just before it started to pour out. Nadir pounded on the door, and Erik led the tired horses into the small stable out back. Within a moment, an elderly lady in a nun's habit, who greeted us with a friendly smile.

"Come in, children, please. Come in out of the rain!" she bade us, and Nadir hurried in, but I stayed outside.

"My husband is putting our horses in the stable," I said loudly, trying to be heard of the pounding rain.

"Well at least step under the awning, Madame," she said. "I won't have you catching your death!" I nodded reluctantly and did as she asked. In another minute or so Erik came around from the back of the church, completely drenched. The nun pulled both of us inside. As soon as we were indoors, I swept Erik to a dark corner of the room.

"Erik, your mask is slipping," I hissed frantically. His hand flew to his face as he tried to adjust it, but it kept falling farther and farther down his face.

"It's the water," he said in a hushed undertone, "It's not giving it any traction on my face." I could see the nun watching us curiously, and Nadir attempting to distract her.

"Stay here," I ordered him, and walked over to the nun. "Mother," I addressed her as I had been taught, "Have you any dry rags?" I asked sweetly.

"Of course, child," the nun said, giving me a smile. She scurried off into some back room and came back with two rags and three large towels. "One for each of you," she said, handing me two and Nadir one. I hurried over to Erik and handed him the rags, and he promptly wiped his face dry as well as his mask before carefully placing it back on.

"Is it straight?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Yes, husband, it is," I said, giving him and content smile. Since we were both soaked to the core, I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head against his chest. We stood like that for a moment before we shifted and I stepped back and started towel drying my hair.

"I'm Mary, by the way," the nun said cheerfully, once again disappearing into a back room. "I have some clothes back here if you need them."

"No," I said politely, "I've packed my own clothes, thank you." There was a mumble of agreement from Erik and Nadir about that. I sincerely hoped that my clothes hadn't been soaked through my bag. I opened it, and was relieved to find that my clothes were dry. "Is there a room I can change in?" I asked, gesturing to my luggage.

"Yes, of course, dear," said Mary, gesturing to the back room. "And when you're done just hang them near the fire to dry." I nodded gratefully and headed into the room, slightly embarrassed at our predicament. It wasn't much to look at, the church, and the back room even less so. It was filled with just a small cot with a linen closet.

It was all forgotten, though, when I came out in dry clothes and had warmed up some. Nadir went into the small room almost immediately after I came out, and I noticed with horror that his teeth were chattering violently. I went over to Erik, and he was shivering as well.

"Erik, we have to get you out of these clothes," I said, stripping him of his jacket.

"Well, this wasn't exactly the way I pictured tonight going," he said good humouredly. I gave him a pained smile and took off his vest, as well as his socks and shoes.

"You should go stand by the fire," I told my husband, pushing him in that direction. He stumbled over and just stood stoically.

"Where are you folks from?" Mary asked innocently.

"It is better, Mother, if you know as little about us as possible," Erik said.

"Oh, nonsense!" she exclaimed. "Why, it's not like you're wanted for murder." There was an awkward silence then, and Nadir came out, completely confused. "Oh, my," was all Mary said.

"You should go change, dear," I murmured, and Erik, looking half dead, muddled over to the small room and shut the door. I hung both Nadir and I's clothes near the fire, leaving him to stand there in silence. Erik came out a moment later, his wet clothes balled up. "Here, let me take those," I murmured uncomfortably, I moved to hang them up in front of the fire. Erik watched me silently, and I could feel his gaze on my back. I turned around to look at him sharply; tell him it wasn't polite to stare, but when I did turn around, the words died on my lips.

Erik was looking at me with such complete, unabashed love that my knees wanted to buckle. I smiled at him tenderly, and it took him two strides to make it over to me, and I rested my head against his chest again. I breathed in his scent, realizing that it was the only familiar thing I would see in a long time.

**Yay, another chapter finito. I hope you enjoyed them all so far. And I apologize if I don't reply to your review; my email has been acting up again. *sigh* Have a good rest of the time until I "see" you again. Please review, my dear reader. It means so much to us writers.**


	10. Walk Through the Woods

"Perhaps you should stay with me, dear," Mary said in a hushed tone. Nadir and Erik had gone out to take care of the horses and get them ready for travel.

"No," I said vehemently, "I won't leave my husband, Mother. He hasn't done anything!" I wrapped my cloak around me, shivering slightly and glancing anxiously in the direction that Erik had left in. The storm had passed the previous night, but it was still bitterly cold; the wind was biting, the sky was overcast, and the ground was muddy. It all certainly accounted for a miserable day.

Mary sighed. "Child, it's not right for you to travel like this. It's very unladylike."

"I'm not looking to be a lady," I said bitterly, "It's not like I've ever really yearned for society's approval. My career proves that much. Opera singers don't elicit much respect from the aristocratic people."

At that very moment, Erik came around with Cesar and Yvonne, the mare that Nadir had gotten for me at the chapel. She was a pretty thing, dappled with long legs and roman flared nostrils. Her ears were petite and constantly swiveling, trying to catch every sound around her. She was lively, but she didn't spook easily, for which I was grateful. I stroked the mare's nose and mounted hurriedly.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mother," I said tightly before wheeling Yvonne away and heading south. I looked back for a moment, and Erik and Nadir were scrambling to mount up and follow after me. They caught up with me after a few moments.

"What was that about?" Erik asked, bringing Cesar on one side of me while Nadir and his gelding, Amare, came along the other side.

"She wanted me to leave you," I said shortly, keeping my eyes straight ahead. "Which, I told her in no uncertain terms would I ever do that."

"I see," Erik said, not pressing the matter any further. Nadir, however, did.

"Why would she want you to leave him? It doesn't make any sense when she knows nothing about us."

"She knows enough," I snapped. "She knows that Erik is wanted for murder."

"How did she find out?" Nadir sputtered. I opened my mouth to make a sarcastic reply, but Erik stopped me.

"It was a lucky guess."

"She was certainly very perceptive, wasn't she?"

"Aye, that she was," Erik agreed, and I rolled my eyes slightly. Since when did Erik say "aye?"

"Where'd you pick _that_ up from, Erik?" I asked, turning in my saddle to face him better.

"Pick what up?"

"Aye?"

"Oh, that. It was something my father always used to say," he said, shrugging slightly.

"Oh, all right," was my brilliant reply. I assumed, though I was never entirely sure, that Erik started saying that to remind him of his father, since it was the only thing he really could take with him. Maybe it was deeper than that; sometimes Erik had these fits of sheer genius, and I would just watch him compose for hours on end, and I could feel my own light pale in comparison. I didn't deserve him. Erik deserved the best, but I was glad that he chose me. Who was I to question God? I wasn't anyone, to say the least. I was coherent for a little while, but I slowly sank into my own little world, letting Yvonne follow the other horses. Erik and Nadir had gotten into some sort of debate over something tedious, I was sure, but I didn't really deign to listen until Erik touched my shoulder lightly.

"Mmh?" I asked, looking at my husband curiously.

"We're stopping for a meal, Christine. It's nearly dark," Erik said, smiling at me crookedly.

"It's dark already?" I looked to the western horizon, and sure enough, the sky was a pink hue, and the clouds were tinted orange, the mountains that stood proudly in the distance were a deep, majestic blue. I sighed happily.

"It is, love," Erik said, brushing his lips against the back of my hand. I smiled at him, blushing like a school girl and dismounted, paying attention to my horse in an attempt to control myself. I didn't know why I was suddenly so fidgety and nervous all of a sudden. Perhaps it had something to do with what Erik's small gesture had implied? The thought made me blush even more, and I proceeded to braid Yvonne's mane in an attempt to distract myself.

In a matter of minutes, Nadir and Erik had a small fire going, as we had camped deep within a forest, and we were all huddled around it, lost within our own thoughts after eating a hot meal. Erik stirred slightly, and Nadir and I watched him curiously.

"Christine, would you care to take a walk?" he asked, standing and offering me his hand. I smiled and accepted it, allowing him to help me to my feet.

"Don't get lost, Erik," Nadir said, giving his friend a wry glance.

"I never get lost! Don't bother waiting for us, old friend, my wife and I have a lot to talk about, what with all that's happened." Erik said, leading me down an old deer trail.

"Whatever you say, Erik," Nadir said, waving us away with annoyance.

"What's this all about?" I asked once we were well out of earshot from our travelling companion.

"Nothing," Erik said evasively.

"Erik, with you it's _always_ something. Don't lie. I know you've got something up your sleeve."

"So what if I am?" he said cockily.

"Don't play that with me," I teased, and Erik put his arm around my shoulder. I stopped and turned to face him, placing my hands lightly on his chest.

"I love you," I breathed, looking up at him.

"I love you too, Christine," Erik said, leaning in for a kiss, but I stopped him with a finger. He gave me a curious, exasperated look, and I peeled him mask off, smiling at him.

"You may proceed," I said, taking a step back, "If you can catch me!" I turned on my heel, picked up my skirts, and ran as fast as my legs would carry me. After a shout of surprise, Erik leapt after me. He caught me and pinned me against the ground, growling playfully. I laughed heartily.

"So, you've caught me," I said teasingly, "What do you plan to do with me now?" Erik didn't even muster a reply, he just kissed me.

**I'm just pouring out chapters! I'm sorry this one's shorter than the others, but I'm not going any further with this chapter, methinks. So, it's the usual drill, review, if you like, or not. But if you don't, then… Well, I suppose that there really isn't a consequence. Phooey. **


	11. Ugh

I shivered and snuggled myself closer to Erik, and I felt his arms wrap around my waist and pull the cloak tighter about us.

"Good morning, my love," Erik murmured, brushing hair from my face. "Did you sleep well?" I looked up at him with mock annoyance.

"You know as well as I do that I didn't sleep hardly at all." Erik laughed then and I swatted him playfully. "It was so cold last night… Hand me my dress, would you?" Erik did so without comment. I slipped it on.

"Don't you think that Nadir will suspect?" I asked, flushing with embarrassment. Erik and I had been gone all night.

"If he suspects then he suspects," Erik said, shrugging it off. "It's not his business, anyway."

"But Erik, I'll be absolutely mortified if he calls us anything along the lines of "lovebirds,"" I said, lacing up my boots.

"If he does any such thing, Christine, I can assure you that he will regret it."

"Even if he does, that doesn't mean I'll be any less embarrassed," I retorted, standing up and brushing my skirts off.

"Shall we head back?" Erik asked, offering me his arm. I took it silently, and before long we were back at camp, and Nadir had things ready to go.

"You two must have gone on quite the walk to be gone all night," he noted, and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die when he said that.

"Yes, well, it appears that I was wrong, Nadir," Erik said, "I did manage to get us lost, and we spent all night making our way back," he said smoothly. I gave him a grateful glance, although I still believed that Erik would find a way to have revenge on Nadir for that comment, if only for my sake.

"I told you so," Nadir said, and I shot him an irritated glance before mounting Yvonne. Erik got on Cesar and we left, not waiting for Nadir; we were both too mad to even want to deal with him. I hadn't liked him from the start, but now he was just being plain annoying and a horrible travelling companion. I got the feeling that Erik wished he hadn't told nadir where he was going.

"Do you miss your homeland, Nadir?" I said after a while.

"Sometimes," he admitted, "But I couldn't go back even if I wanted to."

"And why is that?" I asked, leaning my forearms against the horn of my saddle.

"Because I helped Erik escape after he was accused of killing the shah," he said simply, "I knew he didn't, and so did he… and I also owed him a favor," he said uncomfortably.

"So there's no chance of you going back?" I asked, the hope seeping out of my voice.

"None."

This was going to be a long trip.

**I know another short chapter, but the next one will be longer, I promise.**


	12. Surprise!

Weeks passed, and although Erik said that the journey would be easier, it was anything but for me. In fact, it got harder. I was almost constantly tired, and I got nauseated very easily. But I didn't say anything, though, I just kept pushing through. I got progressively worse; I got frequent headaches, and my lower back hurt as well.

One day, I cracked.

"Look, dear," Erik said, gesturing to the foothills that were about a mile in the distance. "Just beyond those hills is Italy. We've almost made it."

I smiled tiredly at him. "Good, I'm so glad th—" I stopped Yvonne suddenly and dismounted, rushing off into the nearby brush and I retched.

"Christine? Are you feeling all right?" Erik called, and I could hear him dismounting and coming my direction.

"Erik, please, you don't want to see this," I begged him, righting myself. I heard him stop a few feet away so he could see me.

"What happened?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "I don't know, Erik," I murmured, "I haven't been feeling well and—"

"Why didn't you say something?" he demanded, "We wouldn't have gone at such a vigorous pace, Christine."

"It wouldn't have been worth having you hang," I retorted. "Can we please just keep moving, Erik? I'd really feel a lot better knowing that in a day's time we'll be sleeping in a bed," I closed my eyes and gave the bridge of my nose a squeeze in an attempt to relieve my headache; it had gotten steadily worse over the past few hours. And it didn't help any that my flux was late by almost about a week and a half, I thought bitterly. I let out a loud groan at that thought.

This is the last thing I need, I thought angrily. Especially considering Erik's position on the matter.

"What is it, love?" Erik asked, and I gave him a nervous smile.

"Nothing," I assured him. "It's just my head," I lied.

"I have some morphine in my—"

"No!" I said shrilly, nearly on the verge of panic. "No morphine." I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. If I was pregnant, that certainly explained why I had been feeling the way I was.

Erik gave me a confused look. "Christine, what's the matter?" Erik asked, taking a hold of my shoulders firmly.

"You'd hate me if I told you," I muttered, face turned down.

"Christine, I could never hate you," Erik promised, and I chuckled sadly.

"Oh, but you will. It's not something I can hide forever," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. It was funny how my dream come true was Erik's worst nightmare. Irony.

"Christine, just tell me," Erik said, his voice growing slightly impatient.

"…I think I'm pregnant," I choked out, and Erik's hands fell from my shoulders. I clenched my jaw and strode out to Yvonne and mounted quickly, almost retching again because of my emotional state. I dug my heels into her, and she flew towards the hills.

"Christine!" that was Nadir, but I paid him no heed and kept pushing Yvonne. After a minute of the vigorous pace, Yvonne's breathing grew labored, and I glanced behind me to see if I was being followed. There were specks in the distance; Erik and Nadir. That would give me enough time to rest Yvonne before I continued. I pulled her to a halt.

"Whoa, girl," I murmured, and she stopped on a dime, sending me lurching forward in the saddle. The stop nearly unseated me and I was trembling slightly, I noticed with agitation. Why did this have to happen now? I glanced behind me again, and I could clearly see Erik and Nadir galloping their horses towards me, so, with no little amount of trepidation, I urged Yvonne into a canter. I would only have a few minutes to compose myself, I knew, so I wiped my eyes and sat up straight, not bothering to look behind me again.

After a minute or so, Nadir came up to the left of me.

"No Erik?" I asked, my voice dripping with bitterness.

"I'm afraid not. He wouldn't tell me what was troubling him, so I thought I might come to you."

"Oh, so I'm just a well of information to you, is that it?" I asked, angry tears welling up in my eyes.

"Not at all, Madame," Nadir assured me, "I thought perhaps I could be of assistance." I laughed sarcastically.

"No, Nadir, you cannot help me in any way shape or form, I'm afraid," I said looking straight ahead.

"If you would feel so inclined as to tell me what the problem is… Sometimes a third perspective helps," he said kindly.

"Where is Erik?" I asked, avoiding his probing.

"I believe he will be joining us at the creek that is going to cross out path in about a half mile." I saw what Nadir was doing; 'if you're not going to answer my questions, then I won't answer yours.'

"Erik is mad at something I may have caused," I said quietly.

"Well, couples do get in spats from time to time, my dear," Nadir said knowingly.

"But it wasn't a quarrel!" I burst out, suddenly in tears. "Erik—I—we-! I'm pregnant!" I gasped, wiping my eyes in an attempt to clear them of tears, but to no avail.

"Oh," Nadir said intelligently. "A baby is a good thing, Christine, I don't—"

"Erik doesn't want children," I said sadly.

"That explains some things," Nadir murmured. "You know, I was a father once, Christine." I looked up at him curiously. "Yes, he was my only son. When my wife first told me that she was with child, my reaction was much the same as Erik's, but given a little time, I came around. My son became the light of my life…," I noted a tinge of wistfulness in his voice, and all though that half mile, Nadir told me everything about his son.

When we did reach the creek, an awkward silence prevailed. Erik and I avoided each other as much as we could, which wasn't much, considering that we had to travel together, and live together for the rest of our lives. I suddenly wished that I had stayed in France.

**Dun dun dun? Not really sure whether you readers consider this a good or bad chapter. It's certainly dramatic. Please review. :)**


	13. Swear to me!

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I hope you weren't waiting too long for this chapter…**

"It's fine, Christine, I'll sleep on the floor," Erik said, bitterness tainting his usually silky voice.

"Erik, don't be ridiculous. We're married, and I won't stand for it," I said, placing my hands on my hips.

"Christine, please, would you just let me do this?"

"No!" I snapped angrily. "I won't have our marriage start out like this!"

"Well it's a little late for that, wouldn't you say?" he retorted angrily. "Considering what you've gone and done!"

"What _I've_ gone and done? I think you're just as much a part of this as I am! It was your idea anyway!" I said angrily, heat flushing to my cheeks. How could he pin my pregnancy on me like this? It wasn't my fault!

"You sneaky little viper! You knew I didn't want this, and yet it happened anyway! You manipulator! You-!"

He never finished his sentence, because I slapped him. "Erik Girard, you get out of the house this instant, and don't come back until you want to talk about this rationally!" I said, opening the front door of our small apartment. Erik glared at me for a minute or so, and then left. I slammed the door behind him, but as soon as it was shut, I crumpled into a ball on the floor, sobbing.

I sat like that for hours and cried myself to sleep, but woke in my bed. How did I get here? I wondered briefly, before letting out a shriek as someone stepped out of the corner of the room.

"Christine, is that really necessary?" Philippe asked, raising an eyebrow. I pulled the covers around myself tightly, not comforted by their familiar feeling at all. "Now, where is the monster?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I tried.

"The Phantom," he snapped angrily, standing up and stalking closer to me. "Where is he?"

"I don't know!" I cried, curling into a ball again. "I left him somewhere in Germany," I fibbed, looking at him.

"Why should I believe that?"

"Because, Monsieur le Comte, I have no reason to lie… The Phantom lied to me about so much; I could never forgive him now. And in hindsight, I would have chosen Raoul had I known things would turn out this way," I said brokenly.

"Would you, now? Well, I'm sure he'll be pleased to learn _that_ news, considering that he's not in love with the Giry girl!"

"What?" I asked, sitting up. "They were perfectly, utterly happy! Why wouldn't' they be now?"

"It has something to do with the fact that you told my brother you loved him!"

"As a brother!" I defended myself as best I could, but it was a losing battle, and I knew it.

"No, I don't think so, _mademoiselle_. I think you loved him as a lover loves, not as a sister does."

"No, that's not true, I—"

"_Don't lie to me!"_ Philippe roared. I simpered, trying to pull the covers closer to me, but he yanked them away. His face was turning red, and his breathing was labored.

"Please, Philippe, don't! I don't know where he is! I swear!" Philippe froze suddenly.

"Swear on the bible, then," he said nastily. My eyes glanced to the one I had sitting on my nightstand, and he snatched it up and thrust it in front of my face. "Swear to me now you odn't know where he is!" he spat, and I laid my hand down on the bible and swore that I didn't know where Erik was.

"Damn you," he said bitterly. "I won't leave, you know. Because you're his "angel," and he'll never leave you totally alone." I paled. What about the baby? What if it turned out like Erik, and Philippe killed it? I started shaking violently.

"Just go," I pleaded. "I don't have anything you could possibly need!" I wailed, burying my face in my hands.

"I'll go, Christine, but I'll be back," he swore, though I fervently wished that he never, ever would.

**Yeah, I know it's rather short, but with good reason! With all the drama in this chapter, I don't want to overwhelm you, haha. Please his the nice, shiny review button.**


	14. Nothing is as it seems

**I know, that was a bad (good?) chapter, because of all the stuff that happened… and you'll soon have all your Q's with A's to accompany them. Here's the new chapter for y'all.**

After Philippe left, my emotions and feelings were sharply contrasted with what I knew they should be. I wasn't afraid, not of Philippe, anyway. I almost welcomed his presence because it reminded me of home… Was I going mad?

I thought that I must be when I decided to go see Nadir. Perhaps he would know where Erik was, and could offer some guidance.

Upon arriving at Nadir's apartment, I didn't even bother knocking, I just let myself in. "Nadir?" I called.

No answer.

"Nadir?" a little more frantic. Maybe he was just out getting groceries or other necessities. That had to be it, didn't it? Of course it did! What was I thinking? I was letting my mind run off with me.

"Nadir!" I stepped into his sitting room. No Nadir. I looked in the kitchen, the den, until I was finally forced to check his bedroom. The door was shut, and I checked to see if it was locked—it wasn't. "Nadir?" I asked, seeing if he was in there, but again, I was met with no answer. I pushed the door open slowly, peeking around it to see if Nadir wasn't feeling well or some such thing. He certainly wasn't, and I screamed, starting to sob in terror and shock.

**Yes, I know, another short chapter, but the next one will be up soon. Like, hopefully in an hour or so. Hopefully. No guarantees.**


	15. A Wail of a Tale

**Author's Warning: This chapter may be too graphic for some readers, and if you know that's you, I suggest you just skip the first few paragraphs or so.**

**So thank you to all of you have reviewed thus far in the story. :) I love you all so much! :D **

"Nadir! Oh, dear Lord, _no!_" I wailed, running to the bleeding man lying on the floor. "Oh, Lord, no, don't let this happen to him!" I sobbed, kneeling beside him. I tore open his shirt, and nearly retched at the sight of the open wound. Nadir's stomach had been slashed open, and blood was pouring out of him. "No, no no no no no!" I could see his innards, and I frantically tried to push the wound closed.

"Christine, don't," he said hoarsely. "It's too late, my dear." He brought a bloodied hand up to my face to stop me.

"No! No, it won't be too late! I won't be!" I sobbed, pressing my own red hands to my face. I hadn't realized how fond I had grown of Nadir until it was too late. "No, no, Nadir, please, don't go!" I could see his gaze going glassy, and his breathing became shallow and unfrequent.

"Who did this to you?" I asked angrily. "Who _did_ this?"

"Ph…"

"_No,"_ I whispered brokenly, and my weeping was renewed as Nadir exhaled, the life gone out of him. One of the neighbors must have heard me, because someone was coming up the stairs.

"Christine!" It was Erik, swearing explosively. "What happened here?" he asked, picking me up and dragging me away from Nadir.

"I… Oh, Erik, it was horrible! Philippe, he..!"

"What did he do?" Erik growled, and I wailed harder. He shook me until I had myself under control again.

"Philippe… came… after you left… he threatened me. And you! Oh, Erik, he's going to kill you!"

"Philippe was here?" Erik asked. "How did he get here?" Memories flashed through my mind in rapid succession.

"I don't know," I said, burying my face in Erik's chest. "I woke up in bed and… and he was there in the corner!"

"Damn that man to the furthest reaches of hell," Erik swore bitterly. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" I shook my head.

"No, but he hurt Nadir," I said glancing at his body again. "He killed him," I said, my voice a mixture of agony and anger.

"And the baby-is the baby all right?" I sobbed again. The baby! I swooned at the thought of something happening to my precious child.


	16. In Here, not out There

**All right, everyone. I am sooooo sorry that it took me this long to update. I've been uber busy lately… But, on the plus side, I haven't got writer's block. And also, I apologize if my writing style switches suddenly. I've been reading a lot of books by British authors lately, and it may be rubbing off, haha.**

I groaned, having woken up with a throbbing headache. I needed to stop passing myself out. It wasn't good for the baby. Things were going horribly and we had only been here a few weeks! How had Philippe found us? Oh, no… I groaned inwardly. I had sent a letter to Meg our second day here, to let her know that we were all safe. Had I known that Philippe would find it, I never would have sent it. I didn't disclose our location, of course, but the mail service must have stamped it.

"Christine," that was Erik, and I looked at him, sitting up in bed. "I've a letter… from Meg," he said darkly. I paled. Meg had written back? I had specifically requested that she not!

"What does it say?" I asked hesitantly.

"I don't know," Erik admitted. "I didn't open it." He proceeded to hand it to me, and as soon as it was in my hands, I was pouring over it.

"Erik," I began, "I wrote Meg, just to let her know that I was safe… Philippe took the letter from her, threatening her unborn child unless she gave it to him… she did, and I don't blame her," I said, handing the letter to him so Erik could read it for himself. "Erik," I said, grabbing his attention. "Philippe is going to kill you. You have to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, Christine."

"Erik, I'm not going to lose you again."

"You never lost me in the first place," he said tenderly, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"Why does Philippe hate you?" I said, suddenly feeling nauseous. I went to the bathroom, and I could hear Erik's reply.

"Well… Perhaps I haven't told you everything," he admitted sheepishly.

"Come again?" I said, my voice sickeningly sweet. "Just what haven't you told me, Erik dear?"

"In my defense, Christine, I've told you everything… Except this."

"Well then spit it out," I said venomously.

"Christine… I may have had… a little run-in, so to speak, with the Comte a year or so back…"

"Such as?" I prodded.

"Perhaps a little brush with death," Erik said, and at my look of horror, he hastily added, "But not on my part, the Comte's." My horror only escalated. Erik had tried to _kill_ the Comte?

"Erik, you dunderhead!" I screeched. "You put a noble person on the threshold of _death!_" I stomped my foot.

"Christine, please… It's not that big a deal. We're not even in the same _country,_ for Christ's sake," Erik said rationally.

"I suppose," I said grumpily before rushing off to the bathroom to expunge my previous meal.

"Are you all right?" Erik called after a moment.

"Yes, I'm fine," I assured him. "Just some morning sickness, is all."

"Christine, it's three in the afternoon!"

"Is it?" I poked my head around the corner. "Well, then it's afternoon sickness." He smiled at me then, but there was deep sorrow behind it. "Oh, love," I murmured. "What's to become of us? What about Nadir?" I questioned, my hands twisting together as I sat on the bed.

"The police came shortly after you lost consciousness, Christine. They took him to a morgue. It's out of our hands."

"You weren't arrested?"

"…Obviously," he said, giving me an odd look.

"Of course you weren't," I said, waving my hand airily.

"Christine, are you feeling well?"

"Of course. Yes, of course. I'm fine," I said, smiling at him. "I just… God, Erik, why do these things always happen to us?"

"I don't know Christine," was all Erik said.

Another week came and went without much incident, but Nadir was having a funeral tomorrow. Erik had identified the body and told the police of our situation, and they assured us hurriedly that the Comte had no legal authority in Italy. I tried to tell them that that wouldn't stop the Comte, but Erik made a shushing noise and asked them quietly what we were to do should the Comte show up. Their immediate response, of course, was to call for them, but Erik wisely posed the question of "What if you're not around?" and they merely replied that he was to do whatever was _necessary_ to protect himself, but not to go beyond that. Erik nodded, but I knew better. He would kill the Comte if he got the chance rather than risk his fury twice over.

I had gone out and bought myself a dark colored dress, a reddish black, to be specific. The skirt had a black lace overlay, and the material was smooth and shimmery. Not too showy, but enough for a funeral. I sighed, thoroughly wishing I didn't have to go. My morning sickness was getting worse-and no longer reserved to the morning. Because I was sick throughout the day, I didn't feel much like eating, and I could tell that I was losing weight. It was beginning to worry me, but I didn't want to say anything to Erik, lest I worry him, too.

I never should have thought that I could hide anything from him. He approached me the morning after Nadir's funeral, saying, "Are you losing weight, Christine?"

"I don't think so," I lied, trying to keep him from pursuing the matter.

"Christine, your dressing are beginning to hang off you like you're a skeleton. Don't think I don't notice."

I sighed, resigning myself to the prospect that Erik was very observant and that I wasn't very good at lying to him. "Yes. It's the morning sickness… Or just the sickness, I suppose. Everything I eat manages to come back up about an hour later. It's not that I'm not hungry… I just can't keep anything down."

"Christine, you should stay in bed," Erik said taking my hand and leading me to the bedroom.

"But Erik," I whined, "I feel fine."

"Clearly you're not," he said, setting me firmly down on our mattress. "And I'm not rising the baby just because you're being thick-headed." I gaped at him.

"Since when do you care about the baby?" I asked, bewildered.

"Since you told me you were pregnant."

"But… But your reaction!" I was completely lost.

"I was shocked, Christine… And Nadir talked some sense into my head, too…"

"He said he would." I gave a tired smile to my husband.

"But Christine… I don't know if I want anymore children," Erik said quietly.

"I'm listening," I told him. "You had better have a good reason."

"The more children we have, Christine, the more likely it is that one of them will turn out like me," Erik said.

"Erik," I butted in, "Stop living in fear." He looked absolutely astonished that I would say such a thing to him.

"Me? Living in fear? Christine, I'm not living in fear."

"Yes, you are," I told him stoutly. "It's not the fear of the stuff out there," I said, gesturing vaguely to the outside world. "It's what's in here that you're afraid of." And I patted his head just as one would pat a dog's.


	17. A Bit Torn Up

**I'm seriously thinking that I'm going to have to wrap up this story in the next few chapters, because I'm getting some serious lack of motivation for writing this. No, it's not writer's block, I'm just losing patience; wishing it would write itself. Not that I don't love you readers, but I get tired of things easily. Except music, but that's beside the point. **

**The next chapter.**

I sighed. "Listen Erik, just promise me you'll be careful. I don't want you running into Philippe in the streets and not being prepared." Little did I know that Erik had narrowly avoided confronting the Comte earlier in the week.

"Christine, I've never _not_ been prepared," Erik said reassuringly.

"I suppose that's true." I fidgeted with his jacket from my spot in bed. Erik had been adamant in insisting that I stay in bed. I was just pleased that there were results; if there hadn't been any, I would've refused to stay in bed. However, I had gained back the weight I had lost, and now, four months into my pregnancy, was beginning to gain more than I had started out with. When I did get up, which was rarely, I would bemoan my appearance. My waist had gotten thicker already, and I was noticeably heavier in other areas as well. Erik, of course, insisted that I hadn't changed a bit, but I just rolled my eyes at that. Not that I didn't appreciate his compliments, but I think all pregnant women put their husbands in a precarious position. If the men still insist that the women look the same, like Erik was doing, the women don't believe it, and if they say nothing, the women then jump on the men for not saying that they're still beautiful and loved. However, sometimes I seriously doubted that Erik did notice that changes. He would wrap his arms around me and murmur sweet nothings in my ears that made me smile. Or occasionally he would buy me roses, always crimson red, and neatly tied together with a ribbon. Erik was the most supportive person during my pregnancy.

Of course, Erik was the only person I had during my pregnancy. Being on bed rest, I didn't exactly get out much, except for short strolls with Erik on Sundays. But those never lasted more than twenty minutes, much to my disappointment. And after the walks, Erik would fret over me like a mother hen, worrying that I had worked myself too hard, or that I had somehow wounded myself on an imaginary something-or-other. And every time, I would assure him with a kiss on the cheek that I was fine. Usually he would accept this, but on a few rare occasions he convinced himself that all was not well, and started pacing the floor and rambling, upon which I would interrupt him irritably, saying, "I'm going to take a nap."

But now, Erik was going out into town to find more work. Things had been rough for us these past few months; work was scarce in this part of the city, and Erik had increasingly begun worrying about the future. Secretly, I was worried as well, but I held my tongue, because I didn't want to worry him any more than he already was. It was worrying him far too much than it should have; he was getting gray at his temples. Although I thought that he looked all the more alluring for it, it was doing more harm than good.

"Erik, you should go to the Opera house," I suggested mildly. "They'll be holding auditions soon, and you and I both know that'd you'd be best for whatever part they need. Your range is amazing, and so is your voice. And you're professional, too," I added helpfully.

"Christine, I don't know," Erik said, shaking his head. "I just don't know if I can go back…"

"Erik, please," I said, taking his cool hand within my own. "Just take a look around…" and at the look on his face. "Please, for the baby?" I asked, putting on my sad face.

"Oh, all right," Erik said, giving in. "For the baby…"

"And if something opens up, promise me you'll take it," I said, looking him square in the face.

"Christine," Erik began, but I cut him off with a sharp look.

"Erik."

"Fine," Erik said grumpily.

"And Erik?"

"Yes, Christine?"

"I love you," I said, kissing his knuckles affectionately. He smiled at me appreciatively.

"I love you as well, _mon ange_." And with that, he got up and left. It hurt me to see Erik have to do such demeaning work when his mind was so… so incredible. I felt so lucky.

I decided to wait up for Erik that night, because I was feeling more alert than I usually did, and I felt he would be pleased. Erik's work hunt days generally ended with him coming home late and utterly spent and discouraged. I knew that most of Rome's work was physical labor, and Erik had even accepted some of them, but after seeing him come home so defeat, I told him he couldn't do that anymore, because it was as bad for me as it was for him, and to look for other work. So, in order to encourage him, I had ordered him a gift that was set to arrive tomorrow: a piano. It was an old rickety thing, but I knew that Erik would appreciate the work he would put into it, and would have it working and playing as smoothly as a Steinway Grand.

I didn't know precisely when Erik came home from job-hunting, but I didn't think it would be this late. The candle I had lit several hours ago was down to a stub now, and the clock read three am. I was beginning to grow worried, but was instantaneously relieved when I heard the door unlock, open, and Erik's familiar steps coming up the stairs.

"Erik, sweetheart, I'm so glad you're—Erik, dear God, what happened?" I asked, sitting up in bed, my breathing increased.

"Christine, what are you doing up?" Erik asked, taking off his tattered jacket and trousers.

"Let me see that," I said, referring to the puffy black spot that he now sported under his left eye.

"Christine, don't touch it," Erik hissed in pain. "I just want to sleep so I can feel better."

"Well, you're not getting one wink until you tell me just what you've gotten yourself into," I said, feigning calmness.

"I got into a fight with the Comte," Erik said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What?" I whispered.

"Yes," Erik said crossly. "I should hope that he hasn't sent any of his henchmen to disturb you," he said bitingly.

"Well, no, he hasn't," I said. "Are you all right?"

"One doesn't kill a man, Christine, without getting a bit torn up."

**Please don't forget to review! Your input is appreciated!**


	18. The de Chagney Crest

**Yay! Thank you to all who have reviewed, I appreciate it. Also, I realize that I have been negligent in answering questions that you (the readers) have posed. So, I'll answer all of those that haven't been answered already by the story itself, and then you can read the chapter.**

**Shiloh: No, I'm not going to tell you the gender of the baby. You'll be much more surprised if I don't. Also, the question you posed for last the last chapter would be: I'll have to think about it and let you know. Not sure at the moment, but I'm flattered.**

**PhantomSerenity: Yes, I daresay he does, haha. Naughty, naughty.**

"Erik, what did you just say?" I asked.

"Christine, I really don't want to have to repeat myself, so unless you truly did not hear me, I won't say it again," he said tightly, avoiding my gaze.

"I'm going to ask this but once, Erik: Did you have no other choice?" I asked, touching his shoulder lightly to get him to look at me. When he did, finally, he heaved a great sigh.

"No, Christine, I did not. He would have killed me, his rage was so great." I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching rhythmically with anxiety. I took his hand within my own and squeezed it gently.

"Will they come after you?" I asked after a time.

"No, I don't believe so," Erik said heavily.

"Please tell me what happened," I said, looking at him.

"…I went to the Opera house as you requested, and after securing a job there—" at this I gave him a warm smile "—I decided to take a shortcut home. I met a cloaked man in an open street, and apologized to him for spilling his things and offered to pick them up. He refused, saying I was a lowly cur and that I ought to be locked up for what I'd done. I knew, of course, that he couldn't possibly be referring to the spilt goods, so I walked briskly away from him… Against my better nature, I'll admit. The man pursued me, so I led him down a deserted alleyway where we could have our, now inevitable, confrontation. He attacked me almost immediately after I stopped, and so I was left in a defense position. At some point, the Comte drew a knife that was hidden somewhere on his person. I'd imagine it would have been easier to reach, had he not been wearing a cloak. Finding myself weaponless, I did the only thing that seemed rational, I tripped him, and he fell backwards, his head hitting the cobblestone street and splitting his skull open."

"And the Comte, where is he now?"

"With the police… I rearranged the scene slightly so it looked as if I had stumbled upon his body. I saw nothing and heard nothing. But I did recognize him as a wealthy Comte from France, whose name I just happened to know. Raoul will receive word of his death within the week. I would imagine that they will bring his body back to France to be buried… I don't expect that I will be on friendly terms with the Comte anymore."

"Erik, Philippe is dead," I reminded him.

"I meant Raoul," Erik said, glancing at me. It dawned on me then that Raoul would become the Comte, now that his brother was dead and without an heir.

"I'm sure that if Raoul knows what really happened, Erik, then he'll—"

"Why tell him the truth, Christine, when the lie is so much better?"

"Erik, he is our friend, and his brother is dead! Would you deny him the truth?"

"I would not have another French noble after my head," Erik said with deceptive calmness. "That can only end in death, either his or my own. And I do not want to deprive poor Meg of her husband." I swallowed hard at that thought. After all we had been through, there was no possible way that Erik was going to leave me alone

"You don't know that Raoul would come after you," I said reasonably. "He's very forgiving."

"I don't need his forgiveness, Christine. I'm not looking for anyone's forgiveness but yours."

"There's nothing that I need to forgive you for, and if that what you feel… I'm not God, Erik. Perhaps you should go to a confessional."

"Me, Christine? In a church? Don't be ridiculous," Erik snorted, but with one glance at me, his humor evaporated. I was serious. My faith in God was something I took very seriously, and Erik may not have realized it up until that point. "Are you serious, Christine? You really want me to go to a confessional? I've never been to one in my life! I'd be there for hours!"

"Erik, if you're looking for forgiveness, you need to go to church," I said firmly. "Besides, the confessionals are completely anonymous; just make sure you address the priest as 'father.'" I said.

"You act as if I'm going to go," Erik said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, it's pretty clear to me that you've told me everything about everything in your past, and you _know_ that I've forgiven you, but you still feel like you need forgiveness, so you should talk to God about it."

"Christine…"

"At least think about it," I said, rolling onto my side. "Now, it's half past three in the morning, and I'm going to sleep."

"…I'll go," Erik said quietly. I didn't say anything, but I heard him blow the candle out, and felt him put his arms around my waist, caressing my stomach softly. I was asleep almost instantly.

I woke up the next morning in the period of grayness just before dawn and I realized that Erik wasn't beside me, and judging by the coolness of the bed, hadn't been for a while. I sat up blearily, wiping the sleep from my eyes to look around the room. It was empty, not that I was really surprised; Erik was a morning person (and a night owl, too, now that I think about it.) and never wasted any time in getting going and ready for the day.

I swung my legs out of bed and put on my robe, heading downstairs. I needed nourishment, and pickles sounded delightful. I stabbed several of the little green things with a fork, and ate them in silence, occasionally sucking on my fingers to get the juice off.

I was surprised that Erik hand't revealed himself yet, but then I saw a note on the counter. Curious, I picked it up and read it.

_Christine,_

_I have gone to the Opera house to work, as well as visit the Cathedral. I'll be back this evening for dinner, so there's no need to worry._

_Erik_

_P.S., there may be some law enforcers that come to our home due to my involvement with the Comte. If they ask, you know nothing of him. Burn this after you read it._

With a fair amount of trepidation, I crumpled up the note and tossed it into the small fire that Erik must have built earlier that morning. After the letter was thoroughly burnt beyond recognition, I put out the fire and headed upstairs to get dressed for the day. I briefly wondered if the lawmen could speech French or Latin, because I certainly couldn't speak Italian. Erik always did all the talking whenever we went out, and I would just smile at the strangers politely.

I picked out my favorite dress: the green one that Erik had bought for me after I fell in the lake to replace the old one I had lost. If there were going to be officers in my home, I damn well wasn't going to have them looking down on me or my modest dwelling.

I spent most of the morning tidying up, but the home was at last to my satisfaction. All the dishes had been cleaned, dried and put away, so I wiped down the countertops and swept all the floors. The house really was quite a mess after four months of me lying down and doing nothing. I thought of Erik's surprise—and anger—when he came home tonight and found the entire home spotless. It felt good to move again, and do things that felt _normal. _I was sure Erik would be furious with me, but it was worth it to see the house in decent shape again.

At about 3 o' clock in the afternoon, there was a caller, knocking on the door. I opened it about six inches before three officers pushed themselves inside.

"Can I help you, officers?" I asked pleasantly, doing my best to hold back annoyance. One of them asked something in Italian that I didn't understand.

"Pardon?" I asked, looking at him blankly.

"Is Signor Erik Montcello here?" one of them, looking around.

"No, he's not," I said, creasing my eyebrows together. It hand't occurred to me that Erik would've had to change his last name, and at the same time, mine.

"Do you know when he will return?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't," I said, pursing my lips slightly. "May I interest you gentlemen in any refreshments in the meantime?"

"No," the same one said again, though it was obvious that his comrades wanted some.

"Are you sure? I can just—"

"No, ma'am. We'll not have anything," he said rudely, and I took a great huff of breath.

"I'll ask you, gentlemen, not to treat my wife thusly," Erik said, stepping through the front door, his cape trailing slightly behind him. I smiled at him with relief.

"Erik, darling, I'm so glad you're home. How was church?" Erik looked at me for a moment.

"It was fine," he said, as if he didn't really want to discuss at the moment. I realized how stupid the question sounded, what with police officers in our entry room.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" Erik asked, unfastening his cloak.

"The Comte requests your presence in France, signor. For a trial." He handed Erik an envelope sealed with red wax, and the de Chagney crest emblazoned upon it.

**Well, that's that. I hope you all enjoyed that chapter. Let me know if you would want me to do an oneshot of Erik and his visit to church. The thought intrigues me, and I just want to know if you guys (and dolls) would read it. I'll be updating this story a little more frequently for a while, but the end of the school year is coming up, so I can't promise anything… But after school is out, you should be getting plenty, assuming this story hasn't finished by then.**

**BTW, PhantomSerenity, I love your new phic, I find it refreshing. :)**

**And also, keep an eye out for a new fic that I'm working on, it won't be phantom, but I promise it'll be interesting.**


	19. The Violin Case

**Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! And because of all the positive feedback, I will definitely be writing about Erik's trip to church… *evil grin* It will definitely be littered with humor, but be serious, haha. So, without further ado, here is your next chapter.**

**Erika Daae: I'll see what I can do for you. Either another chapter or the oneshot on Friday or Saturday. ;)**

"A trial? What? Erik, why would he—?" Erik waved his hand distractedly, causing me to fall silent. He poured over the letter, and I could see his facial muscles tense.

"The Comte requires my presence in France for the trial of Joseph Buquet's murder. If I come willingly, I shall travel in comfort with these fellows escorting me, but should I not 'a disaster beyond my imagination will occur.' …Mimicry does not suit him. He also sends his regards, Christine, and Meg sends her love." Erik folded the letter and tucked it neatly into his pocket.

"Well, then, I suppose that's it. Gentlemen, if you would just give me a moment to pack a few items and say goodbye to my wife, I'll be with you shortly." Erik gestured for me to follow him upstairs, and I did with no small amount of confusion.

"That's it?" I whispered harshly. "You're just giving up?"

"Yes, Christine, I'm afraid so. As I said, I'm not about to have another Comte after me. Goodbye, love. I'll be seeing you." I stood there, mouth agape.

"Erik, you can't seriously expect me not to come!" I said, following him down the stairs and into the entry room, where the guards were still waiting.

"Christine, you can't just abandon this place! I mean, look at it, it's everything we've ever wanted," Erik said sarcastically. I looked at him worriedly.

"Gentlemen, I'm afraid that this is where we part," Erik said theatrically, knocking one's knees out from under him while simultaneously twisting another's arm behind him. There was still one left, and he was starting to get his wits about him, so I grabbed a vase that was sitting on a nearby end table and smacked him with it in the back of his head. There was glass shattering, because the vase happened to be marble, and very heavy. I tossed the vase to Erik, and he finishes of the only one that was still conscious.

"If Raoul thinks I'm going to go to France with an escort, he's bloody mistaken. I'll go, though, because now I'll be wanted here for assaulting officers."

"Well, you can't seriously think that I'm going to stay here, now that I've become your accomplice," I said. Erik gave me an exasperated look. "You don't want me to have our child in prison, do you?" I asked, placing my hands over my belly. Erik grumbles something that I couldn't hear and headed out the door.

"I'll just pack, then," I called after him. I got out the largest suitcase we had, tossing clothes, food, and things of sentimental value. With no hesitation whatsoever, I grabbed Erik's violin and bow and carried it in one hand, the suitcase in the other.

By the time I made it outside, Erik was already there with our two horses hitched up to a small wagon. I threw the suitcase in the back. "I've got all of your musical scores in that bag, as well as clothes, food, and an assortment of other things. I couldn't find your violin case, so I—"

"Christine, who are they?" Erik asked, gesturing to several men who were outside our house.

I groaned. "Oh, Erik, it was supposed to be a surprise. I bought you a piano," I murmured. "But we have to leave now unless you want them to start screaming about murder."

"Not without my violin case," Erik said stubbornly. "That was a bloody expensive violin, and I'll not have it ruined. Take the reins and start moving. I'll catch up, don't worry," Erik said, hopping off the wagon and dashing back into the house. I took up the reins quickly and ushered the horses off at a brisk walk. I glanced back frequently to see if Erik was coming back out of the house, and after a moment, he did, but he was far enough away that he had to sprint to catch up with me.

As soon as he was aboard, I took the violin case from him, flinging the reins at him concurrently. He took them, and I placed the violin and bow in the case gingerly. I snapped the case shut. "Go!" I said, pulling the case close to myself. "It's in the case, and the bag won't fall out!"

Erik and I already lived fairly close to the edge of the city, so we were out within a matter of minutes. "You bought me a piano?" Erik asked, glancing at me, attempting to keep the horses on the right side of the road.

"Yes," I said embarrassedly. "I bought you a piano."

"Why?" he asked loudly, ignoring someone who was shouting at him.

"Does there have to be a reason?" I said, gripping the side of the wagon tightly as we went over a particularly deep pothole.

"Well, no," Erik said. "That would've been quite a nice piano, too, had the previous owners not taken such poor care of it."

"I know," I said. "I knew you'd like it." Suddenly it occurred to me that Erik still hadn't told me when his birthday was. I determined to ask him later today, once we were on a less populated road. For now, I decided to let Erik concentrate on driving. The road was very crowded, and it was slow going until Erik finally went off the main road and onto a side one that was virtually unpopulated.

"The farther we get away from the city, the better," Erik said, sighing.

"Erik, tell me, why are we going back to France?" I asked

"For the trial," Erik said, glancing at me. "I thought I told you that already."

"Yes, well, surely it would be just as easy to run to another country as to return to France. And you don't know what Raoul wants."

"You trust him though, don't you?" Erik looked at me then, as if my answer would determine what we would do.

"Er, yes, I do… But I still don't know how he feels about you, and, well, I don't want you to hang, Erik."

"It's a risk we have to take, Christine… I won't be on the run for the rest of my life. It will get harder the farther along in your pregnancy you get, and it can't be good for the baby… And I'm also not one to run from my problems."

"Raoul's too stubborn for his own good," I said, shaking my head briefly.

"Mmh, I would agree with that."

We didn't talk for much of the trip, each of us thinking of about different things. My thoughts mainly consisted of what we would do when we got to France, and how nice it would be to see Meg and Raoul again. _Meg's probably very large by now_, I thought with some surprise. She'd be about seven months along in her pregnancy.

I could never tell what Erik was thinking, his face was always impassive and stone-like. When we had stopped one evening, I asked him, "Is something on your mind, Erik?"

"Something's always on my mind, Christine," Erik said, throwing me a wan smile. I smiled back at him tiredly.

"Erik, I feel horrible, awful about this, but I've never asked when your birthday is. When is it?"

"I believe you've asked me once before, Christine. And my answer has not changed since then."

"Erik, for goodness' sake! Just tell me your birthday, would you?" I said moodily, tearing into a piece of bread.

"October 13," he says begrudgingly.

"I don't know why you're so protective over that," I said, handing him a piece. He shrugged slightly.

"I've always been loath to hand out personal information about myself."

"Even to your wife?" I asked, popping another morsel into my mouth.

"You weren't my wife at the time, Christine," Erik reminded me evenly.

"But I am now." I watched in the distance. "Erik, what's that?" I asked, gesturing to something on the horizon. Erik followed my gaze for a moment before leaping to his feet.

"We're being pursued, Christine. We have to leave."

Not wasting a moment, I quickly doused the fire and picked up the bag the contained our food and got into the carriage.

"It's going to be a bit bumpy!" Erik warned me, urging the horses to get going. They took off like a shot and I slammed backward into the hard seat of the wagon, looking behind me just in time to see the violin case fly out of the back.

"Erik! You're violin!" I cried, looking frantically at the case that was slowly fading from view. I saw Erik hesitate.

"Goddamn it!" he said, pulling the horses to a stop. "It's just as well anyway; we couldn't have outrun them, not with the wagon, and you with your condition." He jumped off the seat and went the twenty feet of so to the violin case before picking it up and coming back.

"Now, we wait," he said. "I'd wager we have about ten minutes or so before they get here. When they do, Christine, no matter what happens, don't say anything. I don't want anything to happen to you." I nodded silently and leaned against Erik, and he put his arm around my comfortingly.

"Just promise me you won't get hurt," I said, pressing my face into his chest.

I never found out if Erik would have answered me, because the thunder of hooves behind us turned our heads as the officers approached.

"Erik Montcello, you have left us no choice but to take you to France," the one in the lead said, pulling up aside the wagon.

"And just where the bloody hell did you think I was going? We're only a day away from the border."

"We have our orders from the Comte, signor. A carriage will be joining us shortly, and you and your…" here the man eyed me distastefully, "…wife will be travelling in it with an armed guard. We will confiscate all of the possessions you have with you, and your horses will be tied to the back of the carriage."

"No," Erik said flatly. "Do what you like with the horses, but you will not touch my violin." I stared at him. Was he serious? He couldn't' possibly be. I hoped dearly that this meant another fight wouldn't ensue, because Erik didn't look at all willing to part with his violin. Apparently, the officer saw the same look.

"I suppose if it's just a violin it won't hurt anything. Men, the carriage has arrived, escort them in."

I watched in silent resignation as Erik's hands were bound behind him. Someone shoved the violin and its case into my hands once again and I went in the carriage after Erik. As soon as the door shut, I heaved a sigh.

"I suppose that Raoul really did want revenge, didn't he?" I said, looking at my hands, resting them in my lap.

"I can't say, Christine," my husband said, looking out the window. "There isn't much we can do about it now. He was very efficient in what he did, though. These aren't really Italian officers."

"What?" I asked, looking up at him. "They're not?"

"No. I believe he hired men of Italian descent to come and find us, spies, perhaps. Whatever they are, they're very good at what they do."

"Oh. I suppose that Raoul would have the money at his disposal to do such a thing, wouldn't he?" I murmured softly.

"Yes, and so would I, but it's in a bank account in Paris," Erik said.

"Not that you'd need them. You'd be just as well off doing it yourself," I commented, leaning against the wall of the coach.

"You're right," he said, shrugging slightly.

"Erik, I know you'll take care of me," I said, smiling at him. I thought he must be feeling completely inept after our capture. He looked at me then, away from the window.

"Thanks, dear," he said, giving me a half-hearted smile.

"It'll all be all right…," I murmured, although I was having my own doubts.

We reached the Comte's estate at about four in the afternoon. Erik and I were tired, sore, and hungry. We hadn't stopped throughout the whole trip except to relieve ourselves. I recognized the grand gates and the fine landscaping as soon as we came upon it.

"We're here," I murmured, shaking Erik awake gently. He jumped about four inches off his seat with a wild look in his eyes before coming to his senses and realizing where we were.

"Brace yourself for the worst, Christine," he warned me, and I swallowed, now looking glumly. I realized that Raoul's wrath must be directed solely at Erik, because in the letter Raoul sent his regards, and Meg her love. That only made me feel sicker than I already was. Whatever punishment Erik might have to face, I would rather endure it with him than watch him suffer alone.

The carriage rolled to a stop, and I helped myself out one side, while Erik was dragged out the other. I could see Raoul standing on the top step of his grand house, and Meg beside him. I did my best to give them each a look of cool indifference before Raoul descended and Erik was brought to stand beside me. I'd never felt more like a criminal awaiting punishment than I did at that moment.

**So, this is the end of this chapter. I'm attempting to tie up loose ends and answer possible questions. So if there's any q's you want to have answered before the end of the story, please review and let me know!**

**I'd really like it if you hit the b-e-a-u-t-full blue button that's near the bottom of the screen, too.**


	20. Old Friends

**So, I know you all are waiting for the next chapter, so here it is!**

"Thank you, monsieurs, for your effort, time and services," Raoul said, addressing the hired hands. "But that will be all, I think. If you go into the guest house, you will find your pay sitting on the table. Divide it amongst yourselves at you will, but no bloodshed, please." The men shifted uneasily for a moment, but Raoul gave them an exasperated look. "Oh, just go, would you? I'm perfectly capable of handling him myself, thank you." They left, glancing behind themselves frequently before disappearing into the guest house.

As soon as they were gone, Erik shed his bonds. "They need to learn to tie knots, Comte," he muttered angrily.

"It's good to see you too, Erik," Raoul said with a good humored smile. "Would you like to come inside?"

"This isn't the kind of welcome I would expect a Comte to show criminals," I said angrily, glaring at him.

"Christine! Why are you so terribly unhappy? This is cause for celebration!"

"Yes, Erik swinging by the neck is certainly cause to rejoice," I retorted bitterly.

"What? No, no. I'm here to help, Christine. You see, I have been looking into the murder of Joseph Buquet, and have recently come upon some evidence that proves Erik's innocence." I saw Erik shift with interest.

"Like what?" I asked my interest piqued now.

"All in due time," Raoul said smiling. "I trust you travelled in comfort?" At that question, I could have sworn I heard Erik growl.

"No," he said, looking Raoul in the eye. "We didn't travel comfortably. And now, monsieur le Comte, we would appreciate it if you would offer us some food, as your thugs denied us any." Raoul frowned, looking perplexed.

"You ran, didn't you?" He laughed heartily, but the laughter died down as Erik put his hands around Raoul's throat, choking him.

"It is no laughing matter, _fop_, as Christine is with child and has, up to this point, had a difficult pregnancy. And also I would have at least appreciated it if you had told us that you weren't planning on hanging me!" Raoul was gasping for air and was pulling at Erik's hands, but to no avail. Meg was crying in the background, pleading with Erik to let her husband go.

"Erik," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder and drawing his attention to me. "It's not his fault, he couldn't have known." Erik looked at me then, and the savage look in his eyes died he backed up slowly and looked at the ground.

"My apologies, monsieur," Erik said in a soft voice. I took Erik's hand in my own.

"I was attempting to act within the parameters of the law," Raoul said, massaging his throat. Meg had come down the steps and was rubbing Raoul's back comfortingly. I gave her a tired smile, but apparently she didn't notice because it wasn't returned. "I tried to be discreet in saying within the context of the letter that I was trying to help you."

"I think you need to work on your code, Comte," Erik said. "Otherwise I might have gone with them willingly."

"Please, come inside," Meg said, glancing at me. The four of us walked back up the steps and into the foyer. I looked around; the house hadn't changed in the least. Intricate tapestries still decorated the walls, which were still the same crème color, and footsteps still echoed in the long, wood hallways.

The only thing that had changed was the people. Raoul seemed more subdued and quiet than usual, but perhaps that was because he had just been choked by a man he had been trying to save. And Meg seemed more somber then I remembered her.

"Lynnia, get us some tea, would you?" Meg asked a nearby maid. "And some tidbits for our guests; I'm sure they're hungry." I smiled at Meg gratefully.

"Thank you," I murmured. "For everything." Meg smiled.

"Raoul missed you just as much as I did, I think," she said quietly, looking away. I touched her arm lightly and she stopped, looking at me.

"Meg, you don't have to worry about Raoul and I. I love Erik. And besides, you're my best friend. I couldn't betray you like that."

"I know you wouldn't," she said, shaking her head. "Sometimes I worry that he's still in love with you, though."

"If it'll make you feel better, I can have Erik talk to him," I suggested.

"No," she said, her eyes aimed towards the ground. "I couldn't put you at an imposition like that, Christine… or your husband." I gave her a small smile.

"All right," I said. "I'll let it lie… We had better catch up to the men folk; I'm sure there are serious matters to discuss."

And there certainly were. We sat in Raoul's study for over an hour.

"You're still a wanted man, Erik," the Comte said, nibbling on some food Lynnia had brought in. "People have blown your story out of proportion, now portraying you as a madman that would stop at nothing to have his way with anything… or anyone." Raoul looked at me pointedly.

"I've dealt with rumors before, monsieur, it's nothing I can't handle."

"Each and every one of these rumors will be brought up in court, and as the truth, no less. Meg and I have agreed to testify, which should help your case… You and Christine should testify also." Erik and I both nodded understanding. "You will probably be asked to reveal some personal secrets, to say the least; it would be unwise not to comply."

Erik shifted. "I understand," he said stiffly. "When is the trial?"

"In a week."

I could see Erik's wheels turning, going over his options. He could certainly run again, yes, but I didn't think he wanted to leave another time under duress. He could also stay, create a new name for himself, a new background, and start fresh. The other, and final option, was that he could go through with the trial and run the risk of being hanged by the neck until dead. But in a week's time, Erik wouldn't be able to create a new anything for himself, no matter how clever or discreet he was about it.

A musically talented, unknown man seeking work in Paris a week before the Phantom's trial? That looked a tad shady and suspicious. The only road left was the hard, dark one, and Erik had no choice but to plunge into it head first.

"We'll have to get our story completely straight," he said. "And Christine, don't lie for me. I won't have you lying under an oath sworn in front of God."

"Since when have you had the faith, Erik? I was brought to understand that you didn't believe in God, or that he shunned you." Raoul said, raising his eyebrows.

"You could say that I had an epiphany of sorts. But now isn't the time. The best thing to do is tell the truth, but twist it in a way that is in my favor…" Erik was silent for a moment. "Blackmailing the managers and sabotaging the set weren't exactly the best of ideas, given the current situation. However, the managers did flourish under my instruction, and the Opera made triple what it would have otherwise. My monthly pay was only a pinprick in their monthly sums; I should know since I saw the monthly financial statement before the bumbling idiots did. I'll need to thank your mother for that, Meg," Erik said on a side note. "So, technically speaking, I did more harm than good. And my only reason for hiding was my face; hopefully the jury with empathize with my reasons for hiding myself."

"And what about your capture of Christine?"

"I went of my own free will!" I objected, frowning. "Erik is too much of a gentleman to do such a horrid thing."

"I think we're about as prepared as we're going to be for this," Erik said, pacing for a moment.

"But we shouldn't reveal any more than necessary," I said. "Especially about your past, Erik, that'd get you hanged for sure, whether or not it happened in this country." Raoul looked confused.

"Past? I don't—"

"And you never will," Erik said, cutting him off. "You'll only ever learn anything if it comes up at the trial." Raoul humphed slightly, but didn't protest.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," I said sleepily. "I've had an excruciatingly long, tiring day, and the baby is demanding to have some rest. I'm inclined to agree that it's right."

**Another chapter come and gone… I was sitting her for an hour intending to write, but instead I was prowling around youtube, looking for good Phantom covers (a few of which I found), and I got distracted, and ended up watching the final lair scene, upon which I cried while watching (I love JOJ, he's my fave phantom). So then I needed to recover, and **_**then **_**(yes, there's more) I found out that Phantom's coming back to Broadway! Okay, I'm sure that's been out for a while, maybe I'm a bit late, but I was happy. Wish I could go—too bad I live on the other side of the country. *sigh* Oh well. You'd make me very happy, dear reader, if you would push the nice, blue button and leave a comment!**


	21. The Fifth Month

**Thank you for all the reviews! I hope I'm not losing you all… Like, you're not getting bored or anything, haha.**

"Erik, it's seven in the morning… You're really going to make me get up?" I complained, burying my face in my goose feather pillow.

"Of course, dearest. It is our five-month anniversary, you see, and also February the 14th. So it is a special occasion anyway," Erik said good-humoredly. I groaned.

"Let me celebrate this special occasion by sleeping in a little bit, would you? I'm sleeping for two here." Erik chuckled and hoisted me out of bed, eliciting a shriek from me.

"Now, now, Christine, don't scream; you'll hurt your voice." I pounded at his back, but he wouldn't put me down, not that we were going anywhere. He was just standing in our room at Raoul's mansion, having me slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I finally had to resort to much more… unpleasant means of forcing him to let me go.

Having been hanging upside down for well over three minutes, I spanked him on his bum. I felt him jump and utter an exclamation of surprise before putting me down; it wasn't like me to do such things.

"Thank you," I said, dusting myself off as if nothing had happened. In all honesty, I was surprised by my own forwardness, as well as a tad embarrassed.

"Christine, are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked sweetly, but I was suddenly assaulted with the previous day's events—Erik's trial was in a mere five days, and I was becoming so nervous I feared I would quiver. "Just let me change and you can show me this surprise." He nodded, watching me carefully. I changed without incident and we went outside.

"It's barely even light outside, Erik, what on earth could we possibly—" I cut myself off at the sight I beheld. I knew that Raoul had a small pond out the back of his house, but he never told me about the swans, or the water lilies! And with the sunrise, it was just breathtaking.

"There's always a reason for everything I do, Christine. You may not see it at the time, but it will show itself eventually… fancy going for a stroll?" I nodded silently, and he tucked my arm into his own and went for a turn about the lake.

"Thank you for doing this for me, Erik, I love you so," I murmured contently, my earlier worries temporarily forgotten in the crisp air of that morning.

"And I you, _ange,"_ Erik said, putting an arm around my waist. I stopped suddenly, smiling.

"Oh, Erik, I really love you!" I pecked his cheek and placed his hand on my stomach. I could feel a light twittering sensation within me. "Do you feel that?" I whispered excitedly. Erik suddenly broke out in a wide grin.

"Yes, I feel it. Christine, this is wonderful!" He laughed then, pulling me in for a kiss. I put my arms around his trim waist and we both laughed. "I'm so, so happy that the baby is doing well," he murmured, kissing the top of my head.

"Me too… This means I won't have to stay on bed rest any longer, too, because if the baby is strong enough to be moving around, there's no reason to keep me from doing the same, either… Erik! We still have to think about names!" I said excitedly. He laughed again.

"Calm down, love. There's no need to get overly excited. We still have a good four months left, you know." I groaned playfully.

"Erik, I want to have this all figured out _now. _Pretty please?"

"My dear, your pleas are pretty anyway; but yes, we can talk about it now," Erik said, humoring me.

We sat down on a bench overlooking the pond and talked for Lord-knows-how-long about names, and homes, and genders, and even schools.

"I'll tutor the baby. It'll get a better education from me than it would at school."

"That's very true… I hope he or she is musically inclined. Oh, I can just imagine it, can't you? It would be wonderful… With the tinkling of piano keys throughout the day, either yours or theirs…"

"I'd like to think I do a little more than tinker, Christine," Erik said with an irritated tone, grumbling slightly. I laughed.

"No, no, dear. You tinker. Your tinkering is just more complex than other people's tinkering, is all." He gave me an angry look then, but I just smiled and tweaked his false nose. "Come now, Erik. You know that I believe in your genius. I'm just having a bit of fun. Lighten up a little."

"Saying that I tinker is like saying that you sing through your nose."

"I do not!"

"I know you don't, but now you know how it feels." I harrumphed loudly. "…What about Angelique?"

"What about whom?" I asked, turning to face him. Erik shook his head and pinched the bridge of his fake nose.

"For the baby. If it's a girl, what do you think of Angelique?"

"Oh… Angelique certainly is pretty," I admitted. "Just so long as no one knew where we got the inspiration for it, but I think I prefer Aria."

"I think I prefer that one as well. And if it's a boy?"

"I like Asher," I said fondly. Erik looked at me, his lip curled incredulously.

"No. Marcus?"

"Definitely not. Patrick?"

"Neither of us are English, Christine. That'll be another no… Caleb?"

"… I once had an uncle with that name, he was a drunk."

There was a simultaneous "no" from both our mouths.

Erik and I spent most of the morning on that bench, talking about names and possibilities for home locations and such. We both avoided the "what ifs" fastidiously. What if Erik was sentenced to prison? What if he was sentenced to hang? What if he were banished? The possibilities were endless, and it wouldn't do either of us good to fret over anything that might or might not be. Every time a thought anywhere along the lines of the trial came up, I pushed it aside hastily, afraid of where my mind might take me.

"I thought I might find you two out here," Raoul said, walking up to us.

"Raoul, good morning," I said warmly.

"Vicomte," Erik said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I'm glad that someone still calls me that, Erik," Raoul said. "Much simpler times they were when I was a Vicomte… But that isn't why I've come here. I need to tell you the evidence that proves your innocence."

"Ah, yes," Erik said, straightening in his seat. "Please do divulge this necessary information to us, if you would, monsieur."

"There wasn't any time. Simple as that. Buquet was found dead a mere thirty seconds or so after I came into Christine's dressing room; and you had been at practice that morning under the guise of M. Petit."

"Ah, yes, M. Petit. He was quite the gentleman. Or I was, whichever you prefer," Erik said, shrugging slightly. Raoul and I both laughed, and I leaned against Erik contently.

The next four days passed in a blur of confusion, anxiety and hopelessness. There had already been an attempt on Erik's life at the manor, despite the jealousy with which his location was guarded. After this attempt, Erik pulled me aside in our bedroom and sat me down on the bed.

"Christine."

"Yes?" I said, dabbing my eyes from witnessing the scene a mere two hours ago. Luckily Raoul had stepped in, knocking the man unconscious before Erik could do anything to seriously injure him, earning disapproval with the supposedly unbiased jurors.

"I need to show you something," he said, raking a hand through his hair.

"Very well," I said quietly, biting my lower lip ever so slightly.

Erik brought out his violin case, and upon seeing my perplexed expression, began to explain. "My violin isn't an ordinary one. I crafted it myself while preparing to escape from Persia, and it served me well."

"Erik, it's a violin, I don't see how it could possibly be of assistance to you in escaping from Persia."

He sat next to me on the bed, holding the violin gingerly. One by one, he took out each of the tuning pegs, and handing one to me, bade me examine it. I took it cautiously and was surprised to find that it was heavier than I expected and, the part which was buried in the wood, looked similar to a dagger.

"Be careful, Christine, because each tuning peg is a small knife, and each is very sharp. It slices open flesh with ease." I examined it for a moment more before handing it back to him.

"Now that all of the pegs are out, if we lift up the scroll, that will reveal a larger, more lethal weapon." I watched in astonishment as Erik smoothly pulled the scroll from the neck of the violin, revealing a much larger, heavier looking knife.

"You cannot take the full sized knife out without taking out the pegs first, else risking harming the violin and making a God-awful noise. However, the pegs come out easily and quickly." He slid the knife and pegs back in. "You try." He handed me the violin in all its deadly glory and watched me as I pulled each of the pegs out in turn before grabbing hold of the scroll and timidly sliding the thin, light weapon out.

"So this is why you didn't want to lose the violin…," I murmured, putting everything back in place as best I could before handing Erik his instrument. He quickly inspected it, making sure everything was intact to his satisfaction, and after tweaking one of the pegs, put the violin back in its case.

"Yes, it seemed more important to me that I be armed and caught than not caught and unarmed." I nodded understanding.

"Erik?"

"Yes, love?" he said, picking my hand up and kissing it reverently.

"Are you nervous about the trial tomorrow?" There was silence on his end for a long time.

"Yes, I am, Christine. My whole life hangs in the balance… But I will tell you this, even if we lose the trial, I won't leave you."

**And thus, the mystery of the violin is revealed. Trial is the next chapter, so prep yourselves, haha. Please, please, please review or leave a comment! I love it when you do, and although I may not have any virtual treats to hand out, it makes my day brighter! :) Anyway, keep your eye out for the next chapter, and add this story to your alerts if you don't wanna miss it. **


	22. The Trial

**Oh my gosh, you guys, I am so sorry that I haven't updated sooner! I was busy with finals, and then there was father's day, and then I would've written on Friday, but I went fishing… So I've been really busy. But, anyway, here's another chapter for your enjoyment! **

I reached to straighten Erik's necktie nervously, but he stopped me, grabbing my wrists and kissing my knuckles. "It'll be all right, Christine," he murmured, looking at me. "Just trust me."

"That's an awful lot to ask, given this situation. I mean, they are about to haul you off to a courthouse in chains!" I said, throwing my hands up. Erik grabbed my shoulders firmly.

"Look at me, Christine… Christine, look at me, would you?" I lifted my eyes to look into his hazel ones. "Christine, there's no sense in worrying. The Comte believes we've got this case won already. You trust him, at least, don't you?" Erik growled, and I took a step back.

"Erik, you would dare insinuate that I trust someone more than you?" I asked, appalled. "If you think that, Erik, then you're the one with trust issues, not I! You and I both know that the jury is biased, and so the case could go either way! I don't know _what_ to say or think!"

"Maybe you should stay home, dear, it might be better for you," Erik suggested in a mild tone, though I could hear the anger and exasperation in his voice.

"No, Erik, I'm going," I said firmly. What did he think I was, a coward? "Erik, it'd be even worse for me sitting here, fretting over what your fate might be. No, I'm going."

"No, you're really not," Erik said. I looked at him with horror. "I said it as a suggestion, but it really wasn't. You're staying here, and that's the end of it." He swept past me without a kiss or a second glance.

"Are you ready, monsieur le Vicomte? We do have a schedule to keep." I could the soft scuffling of shoes as they prepared to head out the door, Raoul's confused question as to where I was, and Erik's explanation. Meg immediately volunteered to stay here with me, keep me company, but Raoul said they needed her on the stand, because they couldn't go without two witnesses in Erik's favor.

I watched the carriage roll off of the estate, and sat there sulking for a handful of minutes.

"All right, that's it," I said, standing up suddenly. "I'm going."

Quickly, I pulled my hair back into a neat bun and hurried down the stairs to the stables. Grabbing the attention of a hand, I coerced him into saddling a horse for me. At first he protested, saying that due to me "condition" I "wasn't fit to ride." As soon as Yvonne's girth was tied tight, and her bridle was on, I mounted, not thanks to the stable hand, and was out of the stable yard at a brisk canter.

I could see Erik's carriage in the distance, and Raoul's just behind it. I was coming up on it quickly, since they were merely going at a walk. Honestly, if you're not going to utilize the horse's speed, why bother having one?

As I came up alongside Raoul's carriage, I gave him a quick wave, and he let out a shout of surprise. Meg was giggling uncontrollably, bent over as far as she could. Her face had turned pink, and she was gasping for air.

"Good morning, Monsieur le Comte de Chagney," I said cheerily. "I'll see you at the courthouse!"

Pulling up alongside Erik's carriage was another matter entirely. The windows were barred, and the doors had heavy looking locks on them. Erik, much in contrast to Meg, was staring stoically out the other window. I slowed Yvonne to a walk, in order to keep pace with Erik. The guard placed inside with Erik was asleep; he had obviously been put on the night watch, and had gone too long without sleep. I watched Erik for a moment, and saw his brow knit together slightly.

"Thinking about something, dearest?" I asked sweetly. Erik didn't even blink. In truth, he didn't look at me at all. "Erik?" I rapped on the glass of the window, and he finally looked at me with a little jump of surprise. He shook his head in bewilderment.

"I ought to have known that you'd follow me," he said loudly, so as to be heard through the thick glass. The guard woke up with a loud snort and looked at me, making a profane gesture and shouting at me to get away from the carriage.

"There ain't nothin' worth seein' here! Move along!" I could see Erik was struggling within himself not to knock the man senseless, but I pulled back so I could ride with Raoul and Meg. Their carriage stopped for me, and I dismounted and handed Yvonne's reins to the doorman and got in next to Meg, leaving the other side of the carriage to Raoul.

"Glad you could join us," Meg said, still pink in the face. Raoul looked amused, too, though much less so than Meg.

"I wasn't about to stay home and bite my nails completely off with worry," I said with fake arrogance. "But I really am worried," I said quietly. Meg put an arm around my shoulders. Raoul took my hand comfortingly, but I pulled away from him slowly when I felt Meg stiffen. I'd speak with him after the trial, despite Meg's wishes. I wouldn't have imagining anything, or Raoul encouraging those idle wanderings.

Before I was really aware of what had happened, Raoul was helping Meg out of the carriage, while the footman was helping me. I saw with dismay two gendarmes practically dragging my husband into the courthouse, and I rushed to follow him, but was restrained by a third law enforcer.

"You're not allowed to speak with the accused, Madame," he said in an oddly gentle voice.

"Please, monsieur, that's my husband. Let me speak with him once before the trial."

"I'm sorry, Madame, but that is no longer possible."

After that I felt myself slip into a dream-like haze. Nothing truly seemed real, not anymore, so my attention kept slipping in and out, so I only remember fragments of the rest of the day. What had this country come to that they wouldn't let a wife speak to her husband, possibly for the last time? If I thought about it _rationally_ it made sense, but I didn't really want to put things into perspective at that moment, so I didn't.

Of course, Erik's face was unreadable, but then again, half of it was covered by his second-skin mask, which must have made the job easier. He only met my eyes once throughout the trial; when I was taking the stand.

"What is your relationship with the accused?"

"He is my husband, monsieur," I replied.

"And you consented to this union?"

"Of course I did!" I blustered. "Erik has always been the perfect gentleman towards me!"

"I see…"

There wasn't another question asked of me; apparently the questions hadn't been answered like the prosecutors had expected. Ha. Served them right.

"The accused claims to have a severe facial deformity which caused his seclusion and rejection of his fellow man." Erik was on the stand now, and the glaring brightness of the sunlight through the window caused Erik's second-skin mask to be highlighted tremendously. "The people request to see the thing, if it exists."

"I make but one request," Erik said smoothly, though his entire body was rigid. "I ask that those that need not be present are not. I do not want to give the children in the audience nightmares," he said darkly, throwing a wicked smile at a particularly arrogant looking child, who could not have been more than ten. The child paled instantaneously and shrank against his mother, who looked rather pale, herself.

In all honesty, I couldn't believe that Erik was doing this. Of course, he had probably thought about everything in its entirety, and had known that this would most likely happen. Only in his dreams had it somehow not.

"Granted," the judge said gruffly. "Clear the courtroom of everyone but the jury, myself, the prosecutor and the wife of the accused." Meg gave my hand a quick squeeze before filing out of the room with about 20 other people, Raoul included. I gave Erik an encouraging smile, which he didn't return. I didn't begrudge him for it, how could I? He was exposing his darkest secret, subjecting himself to judgment and ridicule.

"Remove the mask please, monsieur," the judge said, waving his hand as if he wasn't expecting anything. Erik complied with a deft movement of his hand, and the mask was gone from his face. The judge flinched, several members of the jury gasped, and the prosecutor very nearly screamed. I was the only one who didn't react. I was Erik's rock in that instant, much as he had been mine since Daddy had died. I gave him another smile, and he seemed to relax a smidgen.

"I think we've quite gotten the picture, Monsieur Girard," the prosecutor snapped, obviously trying to cover up for his open display of fear just moments ago. Erik complied without hesitation, and the tension that had resided in the courtroom vanished instantaneously.

One man amongst the jurors stood up. "We request but a half-an-hour to decide the fate of the accused; we believe we have all evidence necessary." The judge shrugged slightly.

"Do you have any further evidence that will help your case? Either of you?" The judge asked, swinging his gavel between Erik and the prosecutor. Erik shook his head silently, took his leave from the stand and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.

I wasn't blind. I knew that Erik had kissed me on the way to his seat simply for strategic purposes. The kiss showed that Erik was capable of love and kindness—that he wasn't devoid of emotion.

Erik and I sat stoically for the next half-hour, and the "audience" dribbled back in slowly. The same boy was looking at Erik curiously; apparently he had listened through the keyhole. Erik, however, ignored him quite commendably. Only one jury member returned into the room. He was a slight man, probably in his early twenties, and was ghastly pale and had a sickly look about him.

"The jury has decided…" He took a deep, shuddering breath, and, with one final, surprisingly scathing look at Erik, announced, "That the accused is found not guilty."

There was a huge uproar from the crowd, but as soon as I met Erik's eyes, everything faded away, and I melted into happy tears.

**Yay for E/C! The noose is no longer threatening Erik, as it were. Anyway, I am sooo sorry again for the late update. I actually had this chapter almost completely finished a couple days ago, and then I accidentally clicked the "No" button when it asked me if I wanted to save the changes made to the document… So, several things got in my way. But it is finally up, and hopefully you shall have another in a few days. Although, I'll be pretty busy, cause I have a small group to lead on Mondays now, and Thursdays I've got sing-ins and my voice lessons, and I've also got a Salon next Saturday, so it might be about a week or so before you get your new chapter, so enjoy the happy-fluffy-goody chapter while it's here!**

**And don't forget to review! XD**


	23. Perhaps a Pinch

**LaurenvBelladonna: I know, poor Meg. But I can, at least, assure you that Raoul really does care for her.**

**Phantomfan01: Here it is for you. :) **

**Funnygirl00: Yes, this chapter will entail some R/M, just for you. ;)**

**PhantomSerenity: It took me three times of reading your review to understand what you meant by "not giving anything away." I was like, how does she know what's going to happen when I haven't even written the next chapter..? Anyway, I get it now. I'm glad you find their relationship amusing. I tried to make it particularly light to help contradict the oppressive theme the chapter would have had otherwise. :)**

**Thank you for your reviews, all of you! Here is the next chapter!**

I buried my face in Erik's chest, while my own was heaving with relief. There was a tug on my dress, and I turned around to see the young boy who Erik had scared earlier. He looked clammy and scared- his hands behind his back.

"May I help you?" I asked, not unkindly, though my tone and face clearly revealing my confusion.

"A gift for you, Madame, from a Monsieur Girard," he said, glancing at Erik nervously. I took the package from him, turning away and studying it curiously.

"Do you think it's from your father, Erik?" I murmured, glancing up at him. Erik took the package in his hands, studying it as well.

"I'm not sure, Christine, but there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" he said, raising an eyebrow, and I gestured for him to open the package. He did so without hesitation. Inside it was a starch white porcelain mask.

"I don't think that that was supposed to be for me," I said with wonderment. Erik shook his head.

"I don't believe so, either."

"That poor child was probably so frightened of you that he just gave the package to me," I said teasingly. Erik's countenance darkened slightly, and I stroked the good side of his face. "Erik, you know I was teasing… Now, I'm afraid I have to leave you to ponder the gift, because I must go speak to Raoul." Erik looked at me quizzically, but I walked off without bothering to explain.

"Christine, it must be a relief for you," Raoul said after I had pulled him aside.

"Yes, it is, but that's not why I wanted to talk to you," I said, looking at him. He looked absolutely puzzled. "It's about Meg."

"Meg? Is something wrong with her? Is she sick? Tell me, Christine," Raoul said, gazing at me urgently.

"She believes you still fancy me," I said in a quiet voice, and Raoul froze for a moment.

"What? That's preposterous," he says.

"Then tell her as much," I said snappily. "She's in a very fragile state of mind, Raoul, and you need to be her strength, and you can't do that if she thinks you're still in love with me, whether it's imagined or not."

"You're right," Raoul said.

"I think it would be best if we kept a safe, proper distance from one another," I murmured.

"Whatever you think would help Meg," Raoul said quickly. "I should probably go and join her, if she's feeling that way."

"That would be ideal," I said, waving and walking back to Erik. He looked up at me with interest. "Meg and Raoul issues. As their matchmaker, I'm obliged to help them out… Was the mask from your father?" I asked. Erik shrugged.

"I can't be sure, but if it is, I could say that he might very well be paying us a visit."

"Erik, that's wonderful… He doesn't… Erik, he's going to be a grandfather! He'll be so happy!" I said, walking with Erik as he led me out of the courthouse and into the busy Parisian street.

"He will be," Erik acknowledged, scanning the crowd for any sign of his father. "But we have no home to welcome him in," Erik said, helping me into a cab.

"You sound as if you have something up your sleeve, monsieur," I said teasingly.

"Perhaps I do, but only time will tell, Christine. And I've no intention of giving you a false hope." Quickly, he gave the driver an unfamiliar address. I gave my husband a quizzical look, but he only smiled at me innocently.

"I'm hungry," I announced. "For pickles." Erik let out a snort of laughter and looked at me strangely. I shrugged. "So, where are we going?"

"Outside town," was the cryptic answer I received. I glared at him, which only made him smile more.

Eventually, after many bumps and clunks, as well as shrieks of surprise on my part when the carriage rolled over an especially deep pothole, we stopped. I estimated that we had been sitting for about an hour in silence. I was slightly annoyed at Erik for keeping me in the dark for so long that I didn't bother waiting for him to help me out of the carriage. I merely flung the door open and walked right out. I was pregnant, not crippled.

To my amazement, when I looked around me at my surroundings, I found that we were in front of an old farmhouse. It was quaint, and had ivy creeping up the front side of the house, giving it a homey air. It was white, and decently sized, and had two stories. In the south-east corner, I noted a small barn as well as a garden.

"Erik, what is this?" I asked curiously, turning to face him.

"My wedding gift to you, my dear," he said smoothly. I shot him an interested glance, and he continued, sensing the upcoming torrent of questions I was ready to ask. "I bought it when we were looking for residence, Christine, but never had the opportunity to show you due to the turn of events and whatnot," he explained, looking at me affectionately.

I smiled at him, kissing his cheek. "Erik, I love it, thank you. But now I feel guilty for not having gotten you anything," I said. "I'll think of something. A piano, perhaps," I said, laughing quietly. Erik smiled and kissed my head.

"Shall we go inside?" he asked, leading me towards the house. I nodded.

"There aren't going to be any more surprises, are there?" I asked, raising an eyebrow cautiously.

"No, no more surprises," he said, opening the front door. I looked around. There was quite a lot of natural light filtering in through the windows, the floors were all wood, and the crown moulding was a deep wood, which looked like it was probably cherry.

"I can't imagine that it came in this nice of condition," I said, raising an eyebrow and touching the walls lightly.

"Actually, it did," Erik said, leaning against the doorframe. "I didn't want to put time into building or remedying a house when I had money enough to buy one in proper condition."

I nodded. "I see. How long do you suppose that it will take to furnish it?" I asked, suddenly eager to be out of Raoul and Meg's home (if one could call it that. It would never be homey.)

"It depends on how picky you are going to be, my dear, on your choice of furnishings," he said, smiling teasingly. I whacked his arm with a goodly amount of force.

"Oh, hush. I'm not that picky. I just happen to like the finer things in life," I sniffed in mock disdain. Erik just chuckled and continued showing me around the house.

It was only a matter of days before we had picked out all of our furniture, but it was difficult to do so because no one wanted to sell anything to the Phantom or his wife. So, we browsed in a number of shops, finally settling on a bedroom set and a matching dining and sitting room set. The elderly lady who ran the shop was very nice. When I asked her about why she had no qualms about helping us, she merely said, "You're both too young to have done half of anything the court said you may or may not have done. It's all rubbish." I couldn't help but allow myself a small smile at her comment. I wasn't going to correct her, because ignorance, or denial, is bliss, is it not?

And so, Erik and I moved into our new abode. Meg and Raoul came to visit over the course of the next week, although there was still no sign of Erik's father.

"Perhaps it was Jacques?" I suggested mildly, stirring a sauce over the stove, and sticking my finger in to taste it. I made a face. "Does this taste too much like garlic to you?" I asked, dipping my finger in again and holding it out for Erik to taste. He swiped a majority of the sauce off of my finger, tasting it thoughtfully.

"Perhaps a pinch, but a little bit of oregano should even it out, I think," he said, nodding. "But no, I highly doubt that Jacques was behind the gift. His last name may very well be Girard, but that doesn't explain how he got one of my masks. My best guess is that I left it from our original visit there, and he has just now stumbled upon it."

"I suppose. But I'd still like to see him again, Erik," I said thoughtfully.

"I know you would, dear."

"Erik?"

"Mmh?" he said, looking up at me from the table.

"I love you," I said happily.

**And thus ends this chapter. I am SOOOOOO sorry for the really late update! So sorry. Like, seriously. But you won't have to deal with my late updates much longer. I estimate that there's only about two chapters of this story left, one of which being the epilogue.**

**Don't forget to review! It encourages faster updates. :)**


	24. The Finale

** Okay, let me apologize a thousand times over, because it's been much too long since I've updated. It's been partially my fault, partially not, because my computer crashed, and I lost the half of this chapter that I had typed up, because it's a memory issue. However, on the bright side, I've received a brand new computer for my birthday, and it works splendidly! So, here is the last chapter, and then we'll have the epilogue for you.**

"Augh!" I groaned. My face was red and sweaty and probably had been for several hours. This was the hardest, most painful thing I had ever done in my life. Certainly not the most frightening, but the hardest and most painful. I gripped Erik's hand and he rubbed it and kissed it comfortingly. I had insisted on having him there for the entirety of the birth, despite the unusualness of it, but Erik wouldn't have had it any other way.

I had been in labor since 9:30 that morning, and with a quick glance at the clock in our bedroom, I saw that it was now almost noon. Erik had very nearly had a panic attack when my water broke, and not for the reason you might think. It was because I was near his oh-so-precious piano, which I had gotten him just a month previous. It was of fine make, and the keys were the whitest ivory I had ever seen, and I instantly knew that Erik would like it. I had it brought to our house the same day I laid eyes on it, and I remember the expression on his face when he saw it.

"Christine, darling, I'm home," he had announced, rather wearily.

"I'm in the music room, Erik," I replied. I remember hearing his light footsteps across the wood floors of our home, coming towards me.

"Honestly, Christine, I don't know how you can call it a 'music room' when it doesn't even have-" he was barely even in the room when he noticed it.

"Doesn't have what?" I had asked innocently, as if the piano had been there all my life.

I smiled a little at the memory, but that was quickly replaced by a grimace as another contraction came on. I had been noticing that the contractions had become longer and more frequent, and so had my maternity nurse.

"This should be a fairly quick birth, luckily for you," she told me, and thankfully, within a half hour of her saying that, my first child was born. The nurse, Maria, quickly dried off the newborn babe. "A boy," she said quietly with a smile at both Erik and I. Worry quickly overtook Erik's face and he watched the infant anxiously.

"May I see him?" I murmured tiredly.

"I'm afraid not, Madame, as it appears you also have another on the way."

"What?" I said with some palpable amount of shock.

"A woman simply does not get as large as you and only have one child," Maria said with a chuckle. "Your husband may hold the babe, if he likes." Erik looked at me then, and I gave him an encouraging nod and he took our son-our son!-in his arms.

"He's perfect," Erik murmured. I strained to look at the babe, and Erik turned him to face me. He _was_ perfect, except for a small red scar just below his left eye. I thought it only gave him the same air as his father: proud, strong, and smart. I smiled faintly at our son. In fact, Erik and I had never officially agreed on a name for the boy, so what his name would be was a complete mystery.

"Noah," Erik said with a glance at me, asking for approval.

"Noah," I agreed, and then I was suddenly cast into pain again by another contraction.

My daughter's birth was much more difficult than Noah's. It went on for another four hours, and we very nearly lost her. But she persevered, and so did I. She became Aria Angelique Girard. She had Erik's eyes, and his long fingers. She, too, was perfect in every way imaginable. Even when she was grown, she was mild mannered and polite to everyone she met, and compassionate and kind. Noah, on the other hand was a different story. He was extremely cunning, much like Erik, and musically inclined, but not in the same way. He was always singing. Aria, too, loved music, and she played any instrument she could get her hands on.

_20 years later_

"Aria, you look lovely," I said wistfully, adjusting her veil.

"Oh, Maman, I'm so nervous! Why weren't you nervous on your wedding day?"

"Dear, that's not true and you know it. And besides, my circumstances were very different from yours. I was not about to become a Vicomtess."

"But you could have been," she pointed out mildly.

"Yes, I could have been. But I was in love with your father. And I still am. Besides, had I married Raoul, you would never have fallen in love with Adam."

"Do you think that Adam and I will have a love as strong as yours and Papa's?" she asked, looking worriedly.

"I know you will. Stronger," I promised, kissing her forehead. "Now, you should go, your father is waiting just outside that door for you. Are you ready?"

My daughter's entire face lit up. "Yes, Maman, I am!" she said excitedly.

Erik knocked softly on the door before opening it. "Aria, come, child, Adam is practically sweating like a pig. Hopefully seeing you will calm him," he said, kissing her cheek. "You look so beautiful."

Aria beamed up at him. "Thank you, Papa," she said.

I watched them go with a bittersweet feeling welling in my chest. I just wished that Noah could have been here. No one had seen him for almost two years now. He had gone on tour with a travelling circus to pursue his singing and acting career. He had written for a while, but the letters had eventually ceased. I just hoped he was all right, and that he would return to us, eventually...

** And there we have it! I'm attempting to leave this open, should I decide to write another story about Noah and his adventures... Or if anyone else wanted to, should they feel so inspired. But, the epilogue is next, so you can look forward to that! And also, for those of you who are wondering who gave Erik his mask back... well, you'll just have to wait a little bit, now won't you? Muahahaha! But seriously, if you do wanna write a fanfiction of this fanfiction, do so, but please let me know so I can read it! :)**

**Please review! Erik will send you a flower!**


	25. Epilogue

_5 years after Aria's wedding._

I crept quietly to Erik's bedside coming beside him and taking his hand. His eyes fluttered open.

"Christine," he whispered hoarsely. I gave him a broken smile.

"I'm here," I murmured, my voice cracking. "I have a surprise for you," I whispered. His eyes held a curious expression, as did the rest of his face, but he said nothing, because it wore him out so quickly. Six months ago, Erik had developed a bad cough, and taken to coughing up blood. Just this last month he had been bed ridden, and I had been there beside him and gotten him anything he needed.

"Noah's home," I said. "He arrived just last night, but you were already asleep, and I didn't want to wake you," I explained.

"Show him in," Erik bade me, attempting to sit up. I aided him and helped him rest his back against the head of the bed. I stood and went out into the hall and came back a moment later with our son.

Noah was tall, dark haired, and blue eyed. he had thin lips, and a long face, just like his father. The scar under his left eye was still there, but it wasn't terribly noticeable. It jsut made him look like his father. Noah was certainly more careworn than the last time I had seen him, seven years ago. He looked more thirty than his age of twenty-five.

"Papa," he said, reverting to his childhood name for Erik.

"Noah," Erik said fondly, a smile gracing his lips. "Where have you been, child?" he asked.

"It's a long story," Noah began, shrugging slightly.

"I've got all the time in the world, son," Erik urged.

"If you say so..." Noah said with a crooked smile that was so like Erik's it was uncanny.

"Papi!" a little girl squealed, running into the room and scrambling up onto the bed and throwing her arms around Erik's neck. Erik laughed, and instantly looked healthier. I smiled at our granddaughter, Rose, and laughed slightly.

Noah looked utterly confused. He had gotten in extremely late last night, and his clothes were completely tattered and worn, so I had ushered him in and gotten him a change of clothes and scooted him off to bed. There hadn't been any time at all to tell him that his sister had married, or that she had a beautiful daughter, and was expecting another child.

I pulled him aside. "Aria and Adam de Chagny married five years ago, Noah," I murmured. "We would have sent you an invitation, but we hadn't heard from you in over a year."

"Is she happy?" he asked, obviously distressed that he had missed so much.

"She's very happy. She fits well into that lifestyle," I said, even as Aria and Adam came into the room, Aria being obviously pregnant.

"Aria!" Noah said, laughing and embracing her tightly.

"Brother," Aria said, looking at him happily. "When did you get here?"

"Just last night, actually. Mother was gracious enough to admit me," he said with a laugh, but it never really reached his eyes. I briefly wondered what had happened to him over the course of the past seven years, but I figured he would tell Erik and I as soon as Aria and Adam left with Rose.

Erik seemed perfectly content, and it showed. His whole countenance seemed to brighten now that we were all together again.

xXx

That was one of the last times our family was together. Aria, Adam, Rose and their new son, Thomas, moved to England six months later. I lost Erik later that year. Noah was there for me throughout all of the change, and I was so grateful for him, especially after Erik passed on. I don't know how I would have faced that alone.

xXx

My mother didn't last very long after my father's death. They were everything to one another, and if you tear half of your soul out, you're not likely to survive long without it. So it was with Mother and Father.

I was relieved, surprisingly, that Aria wasn't there for that. It would have torn her apart, with her tender soul, to see Mother and Father slowly fall apart like that. Not that it was easy for me, either, but I've always been stronger than her, and my years with the circus hardened me to a new degree.

I sincerely hope that they're together in Heaven.

_**Fin.**_


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